The Sweetest Downfall
by AceOfDaimonds
Summary: Little oneshots involving the relationship between Bishop and the pc, as well as their companions.
1. The Hunter

**The Hunter**

_Alrighty, I think it's obvious that I don't own Obisidian, Neverwinter Nights 2, or anything except for Tasha. Anyways, this is going to be a series of one shots between all the characters, but mainly Bishop and Tasha. So...yeah. Here we go..._

Bishop eyed his dagger coldly, holding the glinting metal in front of his face. It gleamed wickedly, reflecting the light from their small and dying campfire. The ranger lowered the blade and turned his honey-colored eyes to the paladin.

Casavir slept with one hand under his head, the other thrown across his body protectively. His neck was tilted back, the finely tanned skin of his pathetically vulnerable throat all too obvious. Bishop sneered at the mental image of the throat slit wide open, the annoying paladin and his holier-than-thou lectures finally silenced, but he immediately dismissed the pleasing idea.

Next his eyes traveled to Khelgar. The dwarf, axe only a foot away, was snoring loudly. Periodically he would roll over and mutter a long stream of dwarvish, ending the latest phrase with a grumbled desire for ale. He was a fighter, than much was obvious; barely topping four feet, Khelgar was nothing more than hardened muscle and beard.

Bishop's burning, slightly hung-over eyes landed on Neeshka, who slept with her back arched, her knees pulled pulled in almost to her stomach. Her tail twitched restlessly, and the occasional whimper told Bishop that she was dreaming. Helpless, dreaming, relaxed...it was pathetic, but far more preferably than her daytime cheerfulness.

His gaze slid along the ground to the final member of their little party, Tasha. He frowned slightly at her form, every now and then jerking as she dreamt. The cleric mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over, one hand reaching out to grab at Karnwyr. The wolf gave a satisfied little grunt and shifted, leaning against the black-haired tiefling, who smiled in her sleep. Bishop sneered at her; so strong and battle-ready in front of everyone else, yet so calm and utterly, completely defenseless right now.

_Has Duncan told her anything?_ the ranger thought to himself, turning to glare into the embers. _I should kill her, just in case he's opened his trap..._

The thought was faintly displeasing, but he passed off his hesitance as the desire he had felt the moment he saw her. After all, it wasn't every day that a pretty wench like that traveled alongside you, grinned at you, slept not two feet away from you...

He snorted at his own thoughts and sheathed the dagger.

_In time, perhaps._

_But for now..._

Bishop rose and stepped silently to the sleeping tiefling. He crouched, the leather of his armor rustling faintly in protest. The ranger's hand crept out and he grinned, the gauntleted appendage resting softly, seductively, right below Tasha's ear. The hand slid down, moving along he neck and then to her collarbone, brushing it softly.

He leaned down, not two inches from her face, and whispered, "Your watch."

Tasha's eyes snapped open and fixed on his instantly, blinking in tired confusion. "Wha-?"

The hand continued its stroking, dancing swiftly and tenderly across her collarbone, moving to the hollow of her neck. He smirked shamelessly when her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly.

"Your watch, m'lady," he drawled, breath hot on her face. She inhaled sharply and nodded, coloring faintly.

Bishop grinned to himself and stepped away, watching in twisted satisfaction as Tasha swallowed and sat up, refusing to look at him.

_For now, at least... I can enjoy this._


	2. The Healer

**The Healer**

Casavir nodded to himself as he admired his handiwork; Khelgar, previously bleeding from a dozen wounds, was now uninjured and ready to charge headfirst into another fight. Tasha had taken an arrow in the leg, but she had already healed herself.

Neeshka hobbled over to him, holding one arm limply against her side. "Uh, if you don't mind..."

"Of course. Hold still," he bade her, beginning his prayers.

Bishop sneered at the party he had just started traveling with. Their first fight, and the reckless dwarf had nearly gotten them all killed. Bishop himself was sporting a nasty cut in his side. "A sloppy ambush," he said with his ever-present tone of hinted-at sarcasm and self-assurance. "It might have even worked if I hadn't been here."

Tasha rolled her eyes and tried to think of some witty reply when she noticed the jagged rip in his armor. The tielfing snorted and stepped towards him, placing both hands on his side.

Bishop immediately narrowed his eyes, stepping back and brushing her hands off in one smooth motion. "What do you think you're-"

Tasha pursued, following his retreat stubbornly. "You might not _be here_ for much longer if you don't get healed."

The ranger looked like he was about to snap at her, but instead he just turned to the side and began peeling away the ruined leather around the gash. "Fine, _cleric_."

She snorted and placed both hands on his side. "Why thank you, _ranger_."

Bishop watched suspiciously as Tasha inspected the wound, ready to slide his sword into her if she acted treacherously. His suspicion began to fade, however, when the woman murmured some prayer and he felt his side heat up pleasantly, the wound closing in a warm, tingling sensation of healing magic.

"Good as new...though I can't say the same for your armor."

The ranger glanced down and inspected the newly healed wound. "Hn. Not bad."

"Mm-hm," she murmured as she did a routine inspection of her group; Bishop, Khelgar, Neeshka, and herself had been fully healed; Casavir was praying over an arrow wound he had received.

"Are we ready to travel again?"

A chorus of nods greeted the tiefling, and she nodded approvingly. "Well, Bishop, I guess you get to lead us again."

Tasha blinked when she saw the ranger, who was glaring at her with narrowed eyes. After a moment he just turned and started walking, not looking back. "Fine. Try to keep up."

_Hn. I guess it's my lucky day; I'm useful, so she's gonna keep me in top condition. _

The cleric frowned at him, faintly confused. _What was that about? _


	3. The Paladin

**The Paladin**

"Are you ok?"

Casavir considered his answer, eyeing the young woman in front of him critically. "That man who has joined our group..."

Tasha grimaced, well aware that the ranger and the paladin didn't exactly see eye to eye. "Bishop."

"Yes, Bishop," still the paladin hesitated, unsure of how to voice his concerns. "I...I do not trust him, especially around you." Casavir's eyes slid to the ground and he said quietly, "I do not like the way he looks at you."

She seemed slightly taken aback, but managed to recover. "I...gee, I didn't know you were looking out for me. Thanks."

He inclined his head, glancing at the ranger. Bishop sat in his usual seat next to the fire, holding a mug of ale and scowling into it. Karnwyr sat next to the chair, his head resting on his master's leg, and the ranger would occasionally reach out and rub the wolf's thick grey fur.

"I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, my lady, but I merely wished to tell you of my concerns."

Tasha waved her hand dismissively, reaching out for a mug of ale. "No, it's fine. It's good to have you looking out for me." She grinned at him and reached for another mug, offering it to the paladin. "Here, have a drink. We've got Shandra back, so it's time to celebrate!" she finished by raising the foamy liquid to her lips and taking a long pull, eyes closed.

Casavir watched her with an amused eyebrow raised. When she took the mug away from her mouth there was a line foam framing her lips. He chuckled and took a sip from his own mug while she blushed and wiped it away.

"Er...heh, whoopsie..."

From his seat near the fire Bishop could hear traces of the conversation at the bar. He picked up enough to learn that Casavir, of course, was complaining about him. _Sucks for you,_ the ranger thought as he sipped his ale. Tasha was uncomfortable, it seemed, but she thanked the paladin anyways and offered him a mug. Bishop scowled into his ale when the sound of Casaivr laughing softly reached his ears, and the scowl deepened when Bishop saw Tasha's blush.

_Damn paladin..._ he thought as he watched them.

A few minutes later Tasha stood and yawned, wiping a hand over her eyes. She said something in a low voice, then turned and head for the stairs. Casavir watched her go, a faint smile playing around his mouth. Bishop eyed the paladin and narrowed his eyes, his grip on the mug tightening.

A moment after their tiefling leader had gone upstairs, Casavir turned back to the bar and began sipping gingerly at the ale. Bishop frowned, but his expression quickly became a confident smirk when, as if sensing eyes upon him, the paladin turned and looked at Bishop.

The ranger grinned when Casavir's eyes drew together in reproach. Their eyes met for an instant, bright blue meeting amber's cocky glare with stern disapproval. After a momentary staredown the paladin turned and rose, moving towards where Elanee sat laughing with Shandra. Bishop snickered and lifted the mug to his lips.

A sudden image of Tasha walking in front of him on their journey to save Shandra come to his mind. His eyebrow raised itself and he smirked, the image far from unpleasant.

_You know, I might just stick around with this group for a while. _

_Okay, here's the third chapter. I must admit, I'm having fun writing this story. I still don't own Obsidian, so pleeeaaase don't sue me! Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter...review please, and tell me if ya like it!_


	4. Shall We Dance?

**Shall We Dance?**

_Ok, here's the next chapter. Thanks for alerting me to the errors- grammar is not my strong point- and please let me know if anyone finds any other spelling/grammar/anything else errors. So... this chapter bit longer than usual, but...well, I like writing two-person fight scenes, and I have to confess that I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Besides, I just finished playing the game (WHY DID HE LEAVE?! WHYYYYYYY-?!) and I felt like venting my disappointment by writing, so...here ya go! I still don't own Obsidian, but...some day! So...enjoy, and please review! _

"Ye can run, but ye can't hide, lass!"

"Eek! I give, I give!"

"Help me, fiendling!"

"Not there! No, not there! _Nooooo-!"_

Bishop raised an eyebrow at the sounds coming from the clearing in front of him. First there was a heavy thump, accompanied by Neeshka's loud, "Get her!" Next was Tasha screaming, but...not in pain, no. This was followed by wild, maniacal laughter from Neeshka, joined by Casavir's deep baritone laugh and Tasha's tortured giggling.

The ranger stepped into the clearing, momentarily taken aback by the sight. Khelgar had both arms wrapped around Tasha's legs, keeping her relatively in place. Neeshka was straddling the screaming woman and frantically running her nimble fingers across every ticklish spot she knew of.

"Don't struggle, lass, it'll only last longer!"

"Get oooooff! Help! Someone help!"

The ranger glanced to the side, eyeing the three onlookers. Shandra seemed torn between bursting into laughter and rushing to the aid of her cleric friend. Casavir was leaning against a tree, arms folded over his ever-present plate mail, chuckling lightly at the scene. Sand glanced at Bishop, then returned to glaring down his nose at the ridiculous trio.

"Heeeeeeeelp! This isn't fair!"

"Ah, right there?"

"Noooooooo!"

"How very dignified of you, dear girl. Dwarf, do us all a favor and pull your pants up." Sand's dry, sarcastic voice cut through the cacophony of shrieks.

"Eh?" the dwarf twisted around to eye his backside critically. "What'd ye know?" he removed one hand and reached down to fix the problem, giving Tasha just enough leverage to kick out of his grip, roll the smaller tiefling off of her, and spring to her feet with superhuman speed. She backed away and gasped for air, face bright red.

"Aw, why'd you let her go, tubby?" Neeshka complained as she climbed to her feet, grinning at Tasha's suspicious stance.

"Aaargh, me bum!" Khelgar howled, rubbing what looked like imbedded rocks out of the seat of his leather pants.

Tasha held out both hands in a 'wait-and-don't-kill-me' motion. "Y'know, when I suggested we spar, I kinda meant that we'd, y'know, _spar_..."

Khelgar chuckled and picked up his hammer. "Aye, and next time we spar I ain't goin' easy on ya, lass."

The green-eyed tiefling relaxed a bit and wiped sweaty hair out of her eyes. "Yeah, well...well...I won't go easy on you, either, dwarf."

The dwarf swung the hammer over his shoulder and snorted dismissively, eliciting an indignant "Hey!" from their leader.

"Paladin!" Casavir turned wise eyes on the dwarf.

"Yes, my friend?"

"Grab that shield o' yours and let's have a go!"

He considered for a moment, then nodded in consent and moved towards Khelgar. The dwarf responded by grinning devilishly and banging his hammer against his shield in challenge.

After she had caught her breath, Tasha straightened and glared at Neeshka. "That was low, even for a thief. I'm surprised at you."

"Blah blah blah, you're deeply hurt, you didn't deserve it, we get it," the younger tiefling smirked and rolled her eyes.

Bishop was looking into the forest around them, occasionally sniffing the air, tuning out the sounds of his sparring companions. No unusual scents...birds were chirping, crickets singing their strangely pleasant song...no danger. Which was good, considering the _paladin_ was the only one with armor on.

"Bishop." A voice made him tilt his head slightly to the side. "Wanna have a go?"

The question caused several images to come to mind, each one more detailed than the last. "What, right here in front of the paladin? I didn't know you-"

"Oh, shut up." Tasha snapped, but she couldn't quite stifle the grin. Or, he noticed with satisfaction, the blush. The ranger glanced at Casavir, but unfortunately the paladin was too busy fighting away a steadily winning Khelgar to notice Bishop's suggestion and come running to their leader's defense. Such a shame.

"Fine, _cleric_." He drew his sword and dagger, eyes steely, confident smirk still twisting his mouth. "Shall we dance?"

"You dance, too? Gee, what a guy! He's rude, he doesn't bathe, he apparently has sexual fantasies, and he can dance!"

If she hadn't been giving him a perfectly adorable smile, and if Khelgar and Casavir hadn't been trying to murder each other only a few feet away, Bishop would have seriously considered sending his dagger flying into her neck.

"And what about you, m'lady?" he asked, using the title he only offered when waking her for the watch in the dead of night. "Giving daggers to street kids, then burning down their village? Very noble of you."

She parried his first thrust with one scimitar, then sent the other diving at his thigh. He banged it aside with the curved, lethal dagger and sent his sword flying at her midsection.

"We both know, _ranger_," the word was spat venomously as she skipped back from his slash. He followed immediately, keeping her on her toes. His dagger swiped in a up-right, down-left routine, keeping her left scimitar occupied. "That those accusations are a bloody lie!"

Bishop snarled and twisted sideways as her scimitar batted his dagger aside with sudden ferocity and swept towards him. She didn't expect his next move, however, and was caught completely off guard when he ducked and spun, dodging the next three lightening fast attacks, and came up in a forward roll. She grunted in surprise as he sent the dagger in a series of short, quick pokes that kept one scimitar busy, then knocked her left-hand blade out wide.

Tasha inhaled sharply when her scimitar was swept aside. She was beaten, she knew, but...improvising, the tiefling lunged to the right, batting his dagger away. But, impossibly, he anticipated the move and kept his sword between her body and her left scimitar. Bishop, reflexes honed to perfection, sidestepped to his left, following her lunge, and moved one foot in her way.

He smirked when she tripped on his boot and fell, but the grin disappeared when she slid her own foot around his ankle and took him with her. He kept the presence of mind to keep both blades out wide as he fell. After all, what would the idiot paladin say if his perfect, virtuous little half-demon goddess was impaled under his rival?

He landed on her heavily, breathing a sigh of relief when he landing of a soft woman's body instead of two razor sharp scimitars. Tasha grunted when the man fell on her, all wiry muscle and strength, and swept her blades to the side. He seemed momentarily stunned, giving her the opportunity to shift her weight and flip over.

Bishop felt the woman roll on top of him, not an unpleasant sensation, and felt her cold blade moving to rest on his throat...

At the last instant he dropped his sword and grabbed her wrist, forcing it away. She made an animalistic sound and started to raise the other scimitar, but he twisted his body and lifted her slightly off of him.

In the next instant, Tasha felt Bishop on top of her, cold dagger resting on the smooth, soft skin of her vulnerable throat. She blinked up at his smirk and gasped for breath, trying to figure out exactly what happened.

Bishop knelt on top of her, blade against her throat, grinning at her stunned expression. He felt, all too keenly, the slim hips under his own, the shapely legs resting under him... "Do you yield, m'lady?" he murmured, bringing his face closer to hers. He thought of the expression she wore whenever he woke her up in this way, so very similar to the one she wore now. He exhaled, knowing perfectly the effect his hot breath would have on her sensitive flesh.

"If not, we could always find some other was to...settle this..." he arched one brow suggestively, letting a smirk play across his lips.

Tasha chuckled nervously, wondering if Bishop knew the effect he was having on her. His warm breath, the cool feeling of his blade, his finely honed body rest on top of her hips... "Uh...heh, gee..." _Ooohmygoshhedoesn'twearacodpieceandIcanfeel- holy crap, get it off me! GET IT OFF ME! _

"That is enough, Bishop." Casavir snarled dangerously as he eyed the ranger. The larger man was greeted by a cocky smirk, the ranger's head tilted to the side as he gave Casavir a honey-colored stare.

"Jealous, paladin? We could switch places if you really want to, but I don't think it'll be very chivalrous..."

Tasha was steadily getting redder, although her tense muscles had somewhat relaxed when Bishop pulled his undeniably handsome face away.

"Get off her, Bishop. _Now_."

Bishop glanced down at his sparring partner, the blush spreading down her neck and disappearing into her leather. He chuckled, rising, and wondered how far down it went.

"Some other time, _m'lady_," the final word was spoken in a husky whisper, making her cough uncomfortably as she rose. She mumbled a reply in a playful voice, but he didn't hear it. He was too busy staring into Casavir's frustrated, burning blue eyes. And grinning.


	5. Watching

**Watching**

His arrow sailed past the deer's head, clipping its ear. Bishop cursed softly when the buck snorted and ran, flying through the forest. The ranger lowered his bow and continued forward, silently moving through the pre-dawn shadows of the forest. He paused several times, listening intently for the tell-tale sounds of another deer, a boar, a pheasant...anything but the dried strips of smoky, tasteless meat they packed as rations.

Their group had passed a large stream only an hour before making camp, Bishop remembered, and he started in that direction in a fast, noiseless trot. Twenty minutes of running downhill brought him to the lush, moist bank, and he crouched down in the thick foliage, bowstring drawn tight.

Bishop tensed when he heard splashing, but the next sound caused him to blink. Singing. Someone was singing and splashing somewhere downstream...the ranger rose, head cocked to the side, and headed for the noise.

When he got closer, he recognized the person; their tiefling leader, who, it seemed, had a terrible voice. Bishop's mouth twitched in amusement as he listened to Tasha; no doubt she would die of embarrassment if she knew he could hear her.

The ranger crept forward, boots hissing softly in the grass, and eased his lithe form behind the foliage, leather armor blending in with the forest greens and browns. And there she was, dipping her black hair into the clear water. Bishop's breath caught in his throat for a moment, stunned by the sight of the tiefling woman. Her slim body, every in of pale flesh glistening with crystalline water, was covered in battle scars. Thin, white lines, only a bit paler than her skin, trailed across her form like some macabre tattoo.

Bishop leaned against a tree and smirked, eyes glinting. Now _this_ was worth the endless hours of traipsing through the wilderness with a group of misfits, freaks, and 'holier-than-thou' fools.

_The 'paladin'__ can dream about this all he wants. I've got the real thing right in front of me,_ he thought with a strange sense of triumph. The ranger lowered his bow and shifted into a more comfortable position; she was only now wetting her hair, which meant that this show was far from over.

Tasha inhaled deeply when her hair slid into the water. _Finally,_ she thought, _A nice stream without leeches or inch-deep water. It must be my lucky day. _She held her breath and bent over, barely managing to immerse herself in the liquid. The cleric came up nearly a minute later, gasped for air, and flipped her hair back over her head. She sat in the stream, propped one leg on the other knee, and began the tedious job of scraping off the grime and dried blood that caked it.

A few minutes passed as Tasha scrubbed herself vigorously, then the snap of a twig caused her to straighten and reach for a scimitar. The cleric swore under breath, denied of her first bath in almost a week, and crouched in the water. Her eyes scanned the surrounding banks alertly, searching the lush plants for some hidden attacker. A minute passed, then two, the five, and she gradually loosened her grip on the blade and resumed her bath, although now she was listening intently.

Bishop nearly cursed aloud when a stick under him snapped as he shifted. He sat motionless and held his breath when Tasha grabbed her scimitar and looked almost directly at him. What seemed like hours went by, the cleric's eyes probing every inch of the surrounding forest. Finally he breathed a sigh of relief when she put down her blade and continued bathing, oblivious to his presence.

The ranger smirked and continued watching, eyes roving unashamedly. It wasn't for nearly half an hour, when the sun had cast pinkish streaks of light across the gray sky, when Tasha finally sighed and stretched, rising to grab her clothes, that Bishop melted back into the forest.

_Ok, this was pretty uneventful, but the fighting chapters will come soon, I promise. Sooo...please review if ya liked it, and if you didn't...well, I'm not sure what you should do. What do you want to do? Nothing illegal, I hope. Well, whatever you do...er, have fun...I guess...so, bye..._


	6. Swamp Life

**Swamp Life**

_Hm...this chapter feels like it's missing something, but I'm not sure what. Well...whatever, I guess. Enjoy!_

"Oh, quit being such a baby."

Khelgar growled as Neeshka pulled- no, _ripped_- another of the thin, sharp little needles out of his arm. The dwarf gave a little howl, banging one fist against the bar, and brought a third mug of ale to his lips.

"It _hurts_, fiendling!" Khelgar turned a scowl on Elanee who sat watching with a sympathetic smile. "Why didn't ye tell us 'bout these things?!"

The druid bowed her head. "I am sorry, Khelgar. I did not think you would be camping in the swamp..."

"Ye didn't-ow! Watch it!"

"Quit twitching, stubby! You're making them harder to pull out!" the tiedling scolded, yanking yet another briar out. "Y'know, you're lucky they haven't started to drip yet. Now _that_ would hurt."

The dwarf gripped his mug tighter and glared at her, putting on a bold face. "Drip? What'de mean, drip?"

Shandra and Tasha came downstairs, the blonde girl's face pale and drawn, yet relieved. "These...whatever you called them, they start dripping water and muck from the swamp. Burns like fire."

Neeshka ripped out the last briar, bringing another howl, and a curse, from Khelgar. "All done."

The dwarf visibly relaxed, bringing one hand to rub at the bright red, bleeding patch of skin. "Did the paladin get any o' these things?"

Tasha frowned, "No, but I haven't checked on Qara or Bishop yet. I'll bet Qara got a bunch, she only wears that robe..."

Sand came down the stairs, grimacing. "Don't _ever_ try and drag me through a swamp again, girl."

Elanee rose and started up the stairs, nodding wearily towards Tasha. "Come, we should check on the others."

The tiefling nodded and followed the elf. "Fine. I'll check on-"

"Qara!" the druid called loudly, shooting her friend a grin.

"Hey!" Tasha snapped in mock anger, grimacing when she pictured Bishop's face when he learned that he probably had poison thorns imbedded in his oh-so-precious hide.

Qara appeared at the top of the stairs. "Yeah? What's wrong?"

"Let me check you for swamp briars." Elanee said as she climbed the stairs. Tasha followed with a sigh. "If you have any, they'll start to drip soon."

The sorceress frowned but nodded, and the woman disappeared into her room. The tiefling sighed resignedly and knocked on what she hoped was Bishop's door.

"Who is it?" came a female voice.

"Uh...never mind." She blushed and went to the next door, rapping it tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"Bishop? Can I come in?"

"Hn," came the grunt, and Tasha frowned when she heard him give a slight growl.

The door opened to reveal a shirtless ranger, sitting on his bed and looking extremely pissed off.

"What are you-ooh. Ouch." The cleric grimaced sympathetically as Bishop ripped out another briar from the angry red patch on the back of his shoulder. "Bad angle."

He grunted again, craning his neck backwards to inspect the devilish little thorns. "Something you need?"

She blinked, caught off-guard by the ranger's lithe, muscular chest. "Uh..." Bishop turned to look at her, one eyebrow arching itself knowingly when she turned a shade of lightly tinted pink. "Oh, right. I was gonna warn you about those...swamp things, but I guess you already know."

"I'm a ranger, of course I know."

"Right. Um...do you need help? I mean, that's a pretty bad angle."

He grimaced and ripped out another one, then smirked at her. "You want a full-body examination, right?"

Tasha realized that she was one step away from drooling and glanced away. "I have a spell that will...well, it'll make them all...surface, for lack of a better word. It'll bring them all out at once."

"Fine." Bishop turned his back to her and she approached. A sudden image of the tiefling bathing came to mind, and he shot her honey-colored wink. "Just try not to get distracted."

She rolled her eyes and placed both hands on the ranger's back, causing him to suck in a breath and tense. "I should warn you; this is _really_ going to hurt. A lot." she gently ran a hand over the deeply imbedded briars, already oozing watery blood. "Poor Grobnar was in hysterics, and he only had a few."

Bishop snorted derisively and started to voice an opinion on the gnome, but she cut him off with a quick arcane phrase. There was a faint tingling sensation, then the soft stroking of Tasha's hands, and then nothing. "What, that's it?"

Her answer was a long list of words, accompanied by a sharp burning sensation. The ranger hissed and clenched the wooden bed-frame with both hands, eyes widening imperceptibly.

She paused and touched his back sympathetically. "This is where it'll really hurt, but it'll only last for a minute or two." Her hands continued their stroking. "Just try to relax..." Tasha abruptly pressed down hard on the oozing thorns and began casting again, words tumbling over each other in a desperate effort to get out.

Bishop nearly swooned with the ensuing blast of white-hot fire that seemed to boil under his skin, in his very lifeblood. He gripped the bed-frame and gasped, arching his back and tensing every muscle. "**FU-!**"

* * *

"My, what a colorful metaphor." Sand said dryly when the torrent of vehement oaths came from upstairs. "I thought Qara's little tirade was enjoyable, but this is much better." 

"What did that phrase mean, Shandra?" Grobnar asked in his high, innocent voice as he listened intently to Bishop's ranting.

The blonde woman licked her lips and tried to think of a suitable reply for the naive gnome. "Well...when a man...you see..." she ran a hand through her hair, then gave Grobnar a pleading look. "Don't worry about it, Grobnar. Ask...er, Sir Bishop about it later, okay?"

He smiled happily and began scribbling- hopefully not documenting, Shandra thought with a grin- in a leather-bound book. "All right!"

Qara came downstairs then, Elanee at her heels. The sorceress' face was tighter than usual, and her glare promised instant death to anyone who met it.

Elanee looked slightly confused about a few of the phrases Qara had used during her healing, but the elf just joined Shandra at the table. "Is that everyone?"

Shandra grinned at her and looked up at the ceiling, in the direction of the continued stream of shouted profanities. "Just about."

The druid smiled faintly and lifted a cup to her mouth, daintily sipping at the drink. "I see." She shot Casaivr, standing near the fire with his ever-present armor on, a knowing grin. "You look happy."

The paladin started and glanced at her, looking briefly like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "I...do not know what you mean."

Shandra snorted into her cup, turning to him. "You know perfectly well what we mean, Casavir." He opened his mouth to argue, but she waved a hand absently and cut him off, "You can't fool us women."

Casavir eyed them expressionlessly, then allowed himself a faint smile and turned back to the fire.


	7. Rainy Nights

**Rainy Nights**

_Ok, I feel that in this chapter Bishop is maybe _slightly_ out of character, but, I hope, not too much. This chapter is the longest by far, since I kept on thinking of things to add to it. Oh, and throughout this story I'll be using conversations from the game, like in this chapter, but I can't really remember exactly what was said in the game. So there'll be some familiar conversations, but I've added or taken away from them a bunch because I don't know them line for line. Anywho...enjoy!_

"_Malin?"_ Bishop murmured under his breath, eyeing the woman by the fire with surprise. He cocked his head to the side and briefly considered going over, but decided against it. "Useless wench."

He glanced to the side, where Khelgar was bellowing for more ale. Casavir, standing silent and depressed near the fire like some statue, was staring into the flames balefully. Sand was hunched over in a chair, staring into his book like it held the secret to life itself inside. Shandra and Neeshka sat together at a table, chatting animatedly and sipping at mugs.

And...their perfect leader, usually trying to force a joke out of the paladin or get Sand drunk, was nowhere to be seen.

The ranger considered Tasha's behavior over the past few days- she had been quiet, restless, and irritable. No doubt because of the upcoming trial and their relatively fruitless search for evidence.

So, he mused, she was probably off staring at a wall or a ceiling or the sky. Or praying to Lathander, the practically defective god of birth, renewal, and all the cheerful crap Tasha raved about. The way she yapped about him and prayed unceasingly, the ranger was surprised the woman hadn't been miraculously impregnated at some point.

Bishop smirked and considered sharing his view with the paladin.

He felt a pair of eyes on him and turned, arching one eyebrow at Malin's damning look. _My, she looks angry,_ he mused absently, then smirked when she glared. _I guess she's finally got a spine._ The dark-haired woman fingered a sword that hung at her waist, looking more than a little alarmed by Bishop's sneer.

In answer he moved forward at a slow, bored pace, making her shift and straighten noticeably. He continued on, walking past Malin and continuing on, towards the door. As he walked past he turned his head and gave a little grin, reveling in the woman's murderous glare.

Casavir watched the exchange, raising his brows when the tall woman stiffened. He frowned when Bishop casually went to the door, opened it, and walked silently into the storm.

The woman seemed to hardly relax when the ranger left, and she occasionally shot a glance into the shadows around her, as if expecting an attack. Casavir watched her for a few minutes, then moved from his position by the fire and approached.

* * *

Bishop's eyes swept the town, which was occasionally highlighted by lightning. He lifted his hand to his mouth and whistled sharply, blinking back the raindrops that were crashing down. A minute passed by, then two, and then a small grey shape came padding out of the rain. Karnwyr stopped in front of his master, tongue hanging out, tail wagging happily. 

The ranger's eyebrow went up and he said, "Why are you so happy?"

The wolf's answer was a soft whine, and he pawed at the mud. Bishop glanced up at the sky when another peal of thunder momentarily deafened him, then looked back at his companion.

Who was causally trotting away, heading towards the river.

"Hey!" Bishop called after the wolf, who paused, turned his head around, and blinked at the ranger. Bishop rolled his eyes and walked after him, muttering, "Fine, now what've you found?"

* * *

Tasha yawned, stretched, and yelped when her hand knocked against a sharp rock. She rubbed her fingers and glared at the offending object, which didn't respond. She leaned back against the cave wall, which was surprisingly dry since there was a thunderstorm pummeling the ground not ten yards away. 

"So much for peace and quiet," the cleric muttered when more thunder sounded from outside. She shivered, the sudden loss of Karnwyr's warm fur coat leaving her side exposed to the chilly, damp air. "And here I thought it was summer."

Tasha rubbed her forehead and blinked tiredly, then shifted against the harsh stone and tried to get comfortable. A futile attempt, she learned, when the cold floor always ended up pressing uncomfortably into some part of her body.

"Ow," she snapped at another rock when she tried to lay down, once again bumping her head on the unyielding stones. "What'd I ever do to you?"

Then, with startling abruptness, there was hot breath in her ear and the sound of heavy breathing. Tasha placed a hand on her scimitar and whirled around, coming face to face with Karnwyr.

"Oh, hey." She reached out and rubbed his head, marveling at the sleek grey fur, a beautiful covering for the perfect interplay of power and muscle that lay underneath it. "Where'd you run off to?"

He didn't answer, of course, only sat next to her and whapped his tail against the cave floor when she gently rubbed the spot just between and above his eyes. The amber eyes, normally so alert, closed halfway in pleasure.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you? Mm-hm, yes you do." Tasha said absently, grinning at the wolf. She had unconsciously reverted to the voice she used when playing with the bloodhound puppy Daeghun has given her when she turned eleven. "Who's a good boy? Yes, you're a good boy, yes you are."

"Enjoying yourself?" came a dry, sarcastic voice from the small cave entrance. She snapped her head around and blinked at Bishop, dripping rainwater from his cloak and hood.

"Apparently you weren't."

He walked closer and stared down at her, looking much taller and more imposing than usual from that vantage point. "The paladin was trying to murder me with another joke," he replied, thinking back to the previous day when Tasha had futilely tried to wheedle a joke out of the man. The paladin's half-hearted attempt had been, to say the least, almost concerningly sad.

She chuckled and turned back to Karnwyr, ruffling his dark, wet fur.

The ranger watched her for a long moment, then moved to Karnwyr's other side and slid to the cold floor. "So...I guess you're hiding from our favorite paladin, right? Or your lawyer?"

The cleric sighed and leaned back against the wall, wet hair plastered against her neck. "No, I'm hiding from...a bunch of guards, I think. I don't really know who they were, but they were trying to kill me because of what supposedly happened at Ember." She seemed sobered for a moment, then smirked and said, "Of course, it's really not that hard to outrun men in plate mail in a thunderstorm."

He snorted. "Outrun, huh? You should've just gutted them."

"Yes, and subsequently been arrested for killing rightfully angered men. No thanks."

They sat in silence for several minutes, Tasha rubbing Karnwyr and Bishop watching her from the corner of his eye. _She's scared, or at least nervous, _the ranger thought to himself. _And she _did_ come out here to hide, just not from some untrained men with swords they've used probably once in their lives._

Finally Tasha spoke, voice soft, "So...I've asked everyone else about the trial, and now it's your turn."

He turned to eye her thoughtfully, and didn't immediately answer.

She arched an eyebrow and blinked. "Well?"

"Hn...first, you answer a question. Are you really asking, or is this just your attempt at conversation?"

The ranger was met by a slightly confused expression. "Huh?"

He smirked at the tiefling and folded his arms. "Well, it seems to me that a law-abiding lady like yourself would seem slightly more interested in playing fair and doing 'the right thing' than in getting advice from someone like _me._ And trust me, I'll respect you a lot more if you admit that now then if you deny it and then ignore whatever I have to say."

Tasha dropped her eyes down to Karnwyr and began making little circle patterns on his side. "I see. In that case, I'm really asking. I'd prefer to handle this the non-violent way, but there's no way I'm dropping that as an option." She looked back up, meeting his honey colored eyes firmly. "I wouldn't respect myself, otherwise. Would you?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"So I've answered your question, now you answer mine."

He made the mistake of glancing down at Karnwyr, who was once again getting rubbed between the eyes and was making little groaning sounds, his amber eyes half-closed. Bishop grinned at the wolf, reaching out to pat him. "Fine. I say you just skip this whole trial, and just kill the ambassador. That'll send them a nice message on what you think of 'justice'."

The cleric smiled, expecting an answer like that, and murmured, "She certainly deserves it."

Bishop considered his next words carefully, then smirked and said, voice suddenly low and suggestive, "Or, if you just want to forget about the whole thing..."

She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped one arm around them, watching Karnwyr.

He shifted slightly closer and placed one arm against the jutting wall behind them, twisting a bit to face her fully. "You and I could go find a nice little trail in some woods and...'camp' for a year or two."

Tasha blinked, not expecting that reply and caught off-guard both by the idea and the sudden realization that it was more than a little tempting. _Naw, he's just trying to make me uncomfortable again. I think. _"Is that an offer, or just another snide comment?"

"I don't know." The ranger's head tilted to one side, eyeing her almost predatorily. "If it _was_ an offer, what would you say?"

"Heh..." she absently tucked some hair behind her ear, aware of the fact that she was sitting barely a foot away from Bishop, in a cave that was well-hidden and extremely private. "You have no idea how good that sounds. Probably the best advice I've gotten so far."

His smirk got bigger and he moved even closer, so that she could feel the ranger's warm breath, more heat than anything else, and a startling contrast to the cave's frosty air. "Oh really?" She licked suddenly dry lips and tried not to blush, failing miserably.

"But I can't. You know that."

Bishop scowled, "I do, huh?"

Tasha met his eyes, green on gold, and said firmly, "I've got a choice, Bishop. It's a tough choice, but it's a choice."

He leaned back, frustrated and slightly embarrassed, although he managed to hide it well. "A choice? From the Luskans?" He snorted and crossed his arms again. "The Luskans don't give choices, ever."

"Yeah, they do," she paused, trying to figure out what to say, and looked at the ceiling searchingly. "They just...they just don't view it as a choice."

The ranger rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Do what they want or get killed. Some choice."

Her brow furrowed and she frowned. "Yeah, actually, it _is _a choice. No one can ever force someone else into something. There's always a way out, even if they choose not to see it. And maybe it's a really bad second option, like dying, but it's still their decision." Tasha nodded to herself, and Bishop realized that she was talking to herself as much as to him. "There's always a choice, some people just choose not to see it."

His scowl darkened and he felt oddly disturbed by her words. "What, you're god teach you that? Real nice of him."

The tiefling snapped a glare on him and growled, "Watch it, ranger."

Bishop met her eyes, hardly afraid of the woman, and arched a challenging brow.

She sighed and continued rubbing Karnwyr. "Well...that's just what I think." The cleric yawned and leaned back against the cold stone, smiling faintly. "Of course, once this is all over, I might just take you up on that offer."

The ranger watched her with a frown, the spine-tingling ideas he had had when his offer was made long gone. After a moment he shifted back into his original position, no longer facing her, and sneered. "Well, we wouldn't want to make the paladin jealous, now, would we?" Bishop looked at her out of the corner of his eye, watching for her reaction.

It wasn't a pleasing reaction. After a long moment of digesting his comment the tiefling sighed, rubbed her eyes, and rose. "Let's go back to the inn," she muttered wearily, practically stalking out of the cave. Bishop watched her go, frowning.

_What was that all about?_ he wondered silently. After a minute he stood, brushed himself off, and padded after her. _Damn paladin._


	8. Rites of Tyr

**Rites of Tyr**

_Ok, this chapter is slightly shorter than before, and it seems kinda...unfinished at the end, like it's missing something, but I'm not really sure what... Oh, thank you for telling me about the typing error! Those horrible misspellings are my worst enemies...And I'm sorry, but I won't be updating for a bout 2 weeks- I'm going on a 14 hour road trip to see my grandparents. On the bright side, however, I've decided to start making the chapters longer- every chapter from now on will be _at least _1000 words, and most will go beyond that, so...yay! I might be able to get another chapter out before I leave, but it depends on how much packing I've gotta do. I'll try, though. That said...enjoy!_

"It's just a statue, you know."

Tasha didn't turn, keeping her eyes focussed on the stony figure in front of her.

The ranger entered with usual silence, pausing next to her and leaning back against the wall. "Tyr isn't really watching any of this...but _I_ am."

She still didn't respond, only stared at the huge sculpture of Tyr, solemn and stern and looking almost frustrated.

_She's scared,_ the man mused as he eyed the tiefling. _And she should be._

"So... any advice for me?" the cleric's voice was low, as if she didn't fully trust it.

"Yeah. Don't get butchered."

Tasha snorted at the deadpanned comment. "Gee, you think?" Another silence ensued, but it was a comfortable, relaxed silence, not the normal akwardness.

Bishop glanced at her briefly, scowling when he saw her eyes fixed on Tyr's face. After a moment he drawled, "You seem quite taken by the statue. Maybe I should leave you two alone."

The brought a grin, which erupted into a full and sincere laugh. "Funny, ranger. I was actually thinking how perfectly _constipated_ they've made the staue look. Really, whoever made this didn't do a very good job."

The smirk returned, Bishop amused by the unexpected jab at Tyr. "A little backed up on prayers, I say."

Tasha turned to face him, eyes sparkling, and said in a more serious tone, "What do you think of my chances?"

"Not much."

"How inspiring."

"They'll be better if..." he looked away, and she frowned.

"If...?"

Bishop turned suddenly, folding his arms and scowling slightly down at her. "Look, you're no match for Lorne in a close fight. I've seen men like him fight, and they use brute strength, not speed or precision."

Tasha nodded, chewing on her bottom lip.

"And he likes that falchion of his too much to fight smart. Use those throwing daggers of yours, keep your distance."

"I won't be able to kill him with a dagger, you kow."

He nodded, "Yeah, but if you keep on hitting him from a distance then, sooner or later, he'll go berserk. I was watching him in the courtroom; he wanted to kill you then and there. Not the sign of someone in control."

"But...if he goes berserk then it'll be harder to kill him, won't it? I've never fought a berserker before..."

_Never? Damn. _"True, but you'll have an edge on him. You fight with speed, he fights with strength." Her head tilted to the side, green eyes confused. "If you manage to drive him over the edge then he'll get clumsy, and you'll be able to dodge him easily."

"I'm not _that_ fast..."

"I know." Bishop dug his hand into a pocket, pulling out a long silver chain, and handed it to her. "So use this. It'll haste you for a while, but only once or twice."

She accepted the amulet, lips slightly parted, and stared down at it. A silver cord, with a snake fashioned of obsidian or some dark stone at the end. The serpent, masterfully detailed, hung on the amulet like a snake hung from a treebranch, mouth open and bone-white fangs gleaming.

"It...whoa. Where'd you...?" she brought it closer to her eyes, inspecting the craftsmanship.

"I...'aquired' it on the way over here."

She lowered it, looked up at the ranger, and said a little breathlessly, "Th-thanks, Bishop. I...it's really beautiful-"

"Touch the snake and say 'haste' when Lorne starts losing control," he interrupted with a faint trace of annoyance in his eyes. "You're used to haste spells, so you should do fine."

Tasha nodded, looking down at the black serpent which, she noticed, had two little emeralds for eyes.

The ranger continued, turning away and facing Tyr, who glared right back. "And don't yield to him. He's not going to let you go, not after everything Luskan went through to get you."

"Ok, thanks. I'll take your adivce...it's all I've got, really."

"And..." he trailed off, not quite sure of how to voice his next offer.

"Yeah?"

"If you're too afraid to fight him tomorrow, I might just be up to fighting in your place," he noticed with a glmmer of satisfaction the surprise on her face and continued offhandedly, "I think I'd enjoy killing your Luskan friend."

Tasha blinked, startled by the offer. _Is he actually being nice? Is this really happenning? _

The tiefling had nearly convinced herself that staring at Tyr had bored her into sleep and weird dreams about Sand helping her cheat and Bishop actually being nice for a change, and that any moment she would wake up and have to go fight Lorne when the ranger convinced her otherwise.

The casual, lazy smirk returned and he pushed himself off the wall. "But only if you ask _really_ nicely, m'lady."

And, without another word, he walked out of the room and left her alone with a somber statue and a glittering amulet.

"Are you ready, my lady?" came a voice from the side, and she turned to face Sir Nevalle. He noticed her slightly confused expression and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Um...yeah..." Tasha glanced over her shoulder, but...no, Bishop was definitely gone.

"Then let us go."

The tiefling licked her lips and took in a deep breath, then followed Sir Nevalle to the nobles, peasants, and the Luskan butcher who waited.


	9. Harbormen

**Harbormen**

"No. This is something I have to do on my own, Shandra."

The blonde woman's eyes found the ground and she rubbed her arms. "But...I'm sure Khelgar, at least, would-"

The tiefling smiled gently, touched by her friend's concern. "But what if I were to let someone fight for me, and...they lost? I don't want another death on my hands, especially someone dear to me."

Shandra nodded slowly and sighed. "I suppose you're right." She gave Tasha a quick, forced grin, "Hit him hard, okay?"

"Heh. Will do."

Grobnar, who had been staring listlessly at the sky, suddenly gave a little squeal. "Oh! I've just thought of a song for this occasion!" He bulled out his lute and began playing happily.

Tasha gave him a quick smile, briefly rested her hand on Shandra's arm, and then slowly walked into the arena.

She approached Lorne, who stood huge and imposing in the arena's center. A man next to Lord Nasher's side began to speak in a magically amplified voice, explaining the rules of this combat.

The cleric turned away from Nasher and looked at her companions, watching her from the stands. Casavir, Qara, Sand, Neeshka, Khelgar, Elanee, and there, standing partially concealed by shadows behind the group, Bishop.

On sudden impulse Tasha grinned and waved at her companions, then blinked at Lorne when he gave a low growl. _Bishop was right,_ the tiefling thought as she eyed him. _He's really not in control. He want to tear into me this second._

Tasha gave the huge man a lazy smile and said, "Hiya."

He looked down at her, dark eyes narrowing dangerously, and stroked his falchion almost lovingly.

She blinked up at him, lifting one hand to sheild her eyes from the sun's glare. "Whoa. You're head's like a beacon for the sunlight. Did you know that?"

His lip curled angrily. "Shut up! Just for that, I'm gonna rip the-"

"Flesh from my bones, I know, or skin from my flesh or whatever," the cleric finished for him, absently waving her hand through the air. "Lots of people have said the same thing." She gave him a look of mock surprise and gasped, "Wouldn't you know it, they're all dead!"

Lorne actually growled, the dark rumble starting in his chest and rising dangerously.

"Is the accusor or her champion here?" came the voice from above them.

Lorne turned and snarled, "We are here."

The man nodded and boomed, "Is the accused or her champion here?"

"Yep." She considered adding, _And how are you this fine morning? I'm just _peachy, but decided against it.

He eyed her gravely. "Very well. Move to each ends of the arena."

The pair obeyed, then turned to face each other.

"And...begin!"

The next few seconds seemed to move in slow motion for Tasha. The crowd screamed, practically begging for bloodshed. Her companions all yelled to her, perhaps trying to give her advice. Lorne roared and charged, falchion glinting acid green in the dawn's light.

_Dawn..._ she thought with a strange peacefullness, and wondered for a moment where the feeling had come from. After a moment she smiled and murmured, "Thank you, Lathander."

_Alrighty, let's see just what this thing does..._ The tiefling brought one gloved hand to her neck, where a glinting snake hung loosely, and said 'Haste!' in a loud voice.

Almost immediately she felt the sudden glow of energy, the extra spring in her step and the wild rushing of her blood.

Twin daggers came out of her boots in a lighting move and she crouched, waiting for Lorne to reach her. "Score one to Bishop."

The man came closer, his long legs eating up the distance between them. Closer, closer...and then he was only six feet away, within range of striking at her. The cleric gave him a huge, falsely confident smile, and rolled to the side when he swung.

She sprinted a few steps, moving impossibly fast due to the haste spell, and whirled back to launch a dagger at Lorne. It clipped his shoulder, cutting shallowly and doing no real damage, and the man came on.

"Aw, crap!" she snarled at him, pulling another dagger out of a slit in her leathers, then turned and dashed towards the other end of the arena.

Bishop nearly laughed out loud at the scene; Tasha would speed away from Lorne, then turn and throw a dagger or two to keep him occupied, then would run away. It looked, he thought absently, like a bear running after a squirrel.

Tasha let the chase continue until all but one of her daggers had been thrown. She felt only a little winded, since the haste spell would keep her from any real fatigue. Lorne, she noticed with satisfaction, was bright red with fury, frustrated at the ridiculous game she was playing.

"Hold still, damn you!" he roared at her.

_He's at his breaking point... he's gonna go berserk. _"Score two to Bishop," Tasha muttered nervously.

As if on cue the man seemed to grow larger, muscles bulging, and knuckled whitening on the hilt of his huge blade. Tasha gulped.

"Lathander, give me strength!" she called out to the dawn light, instantly feeling a surge of power throughout her body. The cleric sprinted a few feet, Lorne predictably following, and whipped back abruptly to throw the last dagger. It hit him in the thigh with a dull thud, sunk in, and began oozing blood, and the man paused. He stared down at the blade, then grinned up at Tasha and ripped it out without flinching.

_That's not good..._ Her scimitars came out in a blur and she yelled 'Haste!' again, touching the snake. The spell renewed itself, bringing fresh energy.

This time Lorne came on slowly, stalking around her in a wide circle. She turned in time with him, crouched and ready for the first strike.

"My turn to make a threat," she snarled when the blow came, swishing above her when she rolled backwards. "How about I rip every bit of hair from your oversized frame...oh, wait, you don't _have_-"

The cleric broke of abruptly, launching herself at Lorne, who met the rush furiously.

Both scimitars flashed wildly, ringing against his falchion as she rolled, twisted, and ducked in hasted manuvers that he barely matched. She scored one, then another, hit on his body, but they did no real damage and only served to enrage him further.

Tasha dipped backwards, avoiding another slash, and threw herself forward in a roll. One blade flashed dark, glistening red when it connected to Lorne's thigh, and the other dove in for a fatal cut.

In a desperate move, the man twisted and cut down with his sword. The blow missed by a hair, but his kick did not.

The tiefling felt the air blasted out of her, and then she was flying away from Lorne. She sailed a few feet, into the arena wall, and slumped to the dirt limply. There was a strange, white light on the edge of her vision, and the cleric heard someone screaming her name from far away. Then a tree formed in front of her blurred vision.

_Wait..._ her thoughts swirled numbly as she watched the tree lift off the ground, then return several feet closer. _That's no tree..._

She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her vision as Lorne's huge boot drew closer. _Come on, Tasha, MOVE! _

"You're dead, fool," came a distant growl, and the boot stepped down a few inches from her face.

Bishop's grip on his bow tightened when Lorne walked to the fallen tiefling. _Get up, dammit! Get up! _he found himself fingering an arrow, wondering what the penalty was for interferring. One shot, right in the man's face...

"I'm gonna enjoy this." Lorne gloated as she turned glazed eyes up to him. The falchion came up, moving in slow motion, and then came down in a rapid blur of steel and acid.

Her mind was hazily trying to understand the situation, but her body reacted on instinct. Tasha's side groaned in agony when she raised her arms, clutching her blades numbly, and slashed dissorientedly at the man in front of her.

One scimitar shot straight up, its curving blade intercepting Lorne's falchion and managing to knock it slightly aside. The blow aimed at Tasha's heart found her shoulder, and an explosion of white hot fire raced through her entire right side.

The other weapon went out at an angle, hitting Lorne's leather-clad shin and driving through it, and the blade imbedded itself half-way into his leg. He roared, more in rage than pain, and staggered backwards, leaving his falchion imbedded in the cleric's shoulder.

The pain from his blow brought Tasha's mind reeling back into reality, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. _Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh that bloody _hurts

She gasped in a breath and prayed madly, words tumbling out of her mouth in a confused and hurried order. The pain receded, and she turned to look at the huge weapon.

_There's no way I can pull that out before he reaches me...oh, this is going to hurt so bad..._ She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and rolled to the side, screaming.

Lorne stood and hobbled towards the fallen woman, then collapsed again on his gushing shin. He growled when she rolled, ripping the falchion out of her shoulder and screaming a healing prayer. The wound slowly closed, but blood still seeped out and her face remained contorted with pain. Abruptly the man rose, ignoring his leg, and lunged for the falchion.

He grabbed the hilt right when Tasha snatched her scimitar and whirled on him, eyes wide and breath ragged. The falchion came out, swung around and impaled the tiefling when she lunged to him.

For what seemed an eternity they stared at each other, the screaming crowd forgotten. Tasha hung suspened on Lorne's blade, sticking through her stomach. Lorne felt something warm and wet on his neck and saw the tell-tale glint of red metal near his collarbone. Surprisingly, there was little pain, just the strangest sensation of falling into a dark pit. And, suddenly, his head seemed to roll back impossibly far, glazed eyes barely registering the red and orange dawn above him. Then there was the feel of the cool dirt underneath him, though he didn't remember lying down.

Tasha fell to her knees when Lorne, a scimitar imbedded in his throat, slumped backwards. She tumbled forwards, towards the man, but the hilt of the falchion was pressed against him and prevented her from reaching the cool, inviting ground.

As if from far away, voices seemed to be calling to her. People seemed to be screaming, cheering, and she hazily wondered what they were cheering for. Then, on the edge of her vision, she dimly made out a group of blurred figures jumping out of the stands and into the arena. The figures, she thought, looked familiar. And then one of then had its hands on her shoulders, another was tearing off her leather and shirt, there were murmuring voices, the feel of warmth spreading into her bleeding stomach and, mercifully, a black cloud that blocked out the sounds and figures and pain and carried her into peacefull darkness.

_Whew! I can't believe I managed to finish this before we left for vacation! Ok, so _this_ will definitely be the last chapter for about two weeks...review if ya liked it!_


	10. A Kiss and a Flying Pie

**A Kiss and a Flying Pie**

_Heh, I had WAY too much caffeine and have been up for the past few hours, bored out of my mind, and decided to write one more chapter before vacation. But THIS is the last chapter for the next two weeks, and I mean it this time! Ok I just realized that these last three chapters haven't really been one-shots, since they happened consecutively in the story, but from here-on that probably won't happen again. Ooh, I apologize for Sand's brief OOC moment, but...well, I couldn't resist. So...that's all I have to say. Enjoy!_

"Does this hurt?" Elanee asked gently when she pushed on the tiefling's side.

Tasha shook her head. "No, feels fine. You did a great job. Thanks."

The druid shook her head and smiled faintly. "It wasn't me, it was Casavir."

"Huh? I thought...what exactly happened after I blacked out?"

"Well...when Lorne fell over we all assumed he was dead, and since you had a falchion imbedded in you..."

The younger woman grimaced and absently rubbed her stomach. "Ouch. Thanks for reminding me..."

Elanee giggled and started re-wrapping the bandages. "No problem. Anyways, we all jumped into the arena-"

"Is that allowed?" the cleric broke in, half-amused, and half-concerned that Nasher was going to have her friends imprisoned.

"No, but...well, it doesn't matter. Once we were in Casavir reached you first and started praying. That's the only thing that kept you alive."

Tasha's eyes found the wall and she said slowly, "I...had no idea. I'll have to thank him."

The druid tied off the bandage and handed her a shirt. "Mm-hm. You can do that at the party."

"Party?"

"Downstairs." Elanee dipped her hands into the basin of water used for cleaning Tasha's wounds. "Duncan's throwing a party to celebrate your victory."

The cleric snorted and pulled the shirt on. "Oh, really? What, an ale party?"

"No, actually. He must have recruited every baker in the city; you should see the feast in his kitchen. Nearly every kind of fruit, meat, and pastry I've ever heard of." She shot her friend a smile, "He really cares about you, Tasha."

"Heh. Yeah...I guess so..." she murmured uncomfortably.

Elanee touched her shoulder gently. "Are you all right?"

Tasha ran a hand through her hair and shifted. "Yeah, just...I'm not used to stuff like this. Daeghun wasn't really...y'know..."

"I see. He had a different was of caring for you."

She nodded, grateful, "Yeah. He loved me...but in his own way."

Elanee smiled softly and moved towards the door. "The party's going to start in a few hours, so...whenever you're ready." She paused outside the room and leveled a glare at Tasha. "And _no dancing_."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Too much exertion might cause the wound in your stomach to open, or damage your ribs again." She licked her lips and didn't meet Tasha's eyes. "And, ah...don't do _anything_ really...'active', or else..."

"...oh." The cleric found a blush rising. _Not that I would..._

The druid closed the door and went downstairs, giving the anxious group the news that the tiefling was healing quickly.

Tasha sighed and lay back on the bed, one hand behind her head. _It's over...it's really over..._ she thought absently. A face came to mind, then; Retta Starling, smiling happily, with her hands shoved into a bowl of bread and flour caking her arms. And then Bevil, sparring with Tasha even though most of the youth in West Harbor shunned her as a demon-spawn.

_They deserve to know,_ the tiefling told herself. Lorne may have been a heartless butcher...but what about the younger Lorne, the one who had taken Bevil fishing and taught him how to fight?

_Maybe_, she mused, _he could have been different. Maybe if he hadn't gotten caught up in this, he...maybe he could have gone home, been happy..._

The ceiling blurred and a warm tear slid down her cheek. _I _killed_ him. I _killed_ Bevi's brother..._ She moved to a sitting position, wrapped both arms around her knees, and began to pray in a soft murmur.

* * *

"You should have a dance, lass," Duncan said as he eyed the group of whirling people. "It'd do you some good." 

Tasha gulped down the last of her wine and shrugged, the drink causing her thoughts to become fuzzy. "Elanee said not to be too active, or else I'd ruin your nice clean floor."

The barkeep nodded, gave a little grunt, and moved to serve Khelgar again.

"Nothing too active, eh?" the tiefling turned to see Bishop standing less than a foot away. He smirked and trailed his eyes down her body, not even trying to hide the action. "Such a shame..."

She rolled her eyes and brushed dark hair out of her face. "Yeah, I'm really disappointed."

His smirk grew as he moved even closer, pretending not to notice her sarcasm. "You must be, m'lady," the ranger drawled, placing both hands against the bar on either side of the tiefling and pressing her back against the bar counter.

She blushed a little and swallowed, unnerved by the hungry look in his honeyed eyes, a look so common in the every-day drunks in Duncan's inn. "Heh... gee, y-mph?" whatever the cleric had tried to say was cut off when he got even closer, letting Tasha feel his warm breath for an instant before he kissed her.

The tiefling was, for a moment, too shocked to react. _What do I do what do I do what...do...I...do..._ after a few seconds she realized that the sensation was, in fact, far from unpleasant. Her eyes drifted closed and she returned the kiss, even let her mouth part a little.

Duncan poured Khelgar, who was already half-drunk, a fresh glass of ale and returned to his conversation with Tasha. The barkeep's jaw dropped a full six inches when he saw her pressed back against his counter by _Bishop_, of all people.

The large man made a strangled sound when the ranger slid one arm behind her, resting it at the small of Tasha's back. Inexplainably, she didn't push him away.

"Well, what'dye kn-_hic_!" Khlelgar grumbled drunkenly, foam lining his beard and dripping down his shirt. "That be...thaaat be..." he shook his head and took another pull, grinning.

Duncan glowered at the pair, one eye twitching imperceptably. _If they leave the room, I swear I'll bash his head in..._ He resolved to speak with Tasha about it later, when the ranger wasn't around.

Neeshka glanced around; the party had been fun, but it could always be better... She turned to eye a nice, fresh, apple pie, just waiting for her to pick it up and...

The tiefling grinned and looked for some unsuspecting target. Khelgar...no, he was dead drunk. Casavir...unfourtunately, the paladin was nowhere to be seen. Sand...no, he was sipping wine at the bar and would most likely blast her into the next century. Neeshka's eyes continued their sweep of the room, finally resting on...Qara. Sitting nearly alone, scowling at everyone near her. The tiefling chuckled and slid into the shadows, waiting...waiting...

Qara glared at Shandra, who was dancing a few feet away. _Oh, she'd be dancing a lot better if her hair was on fire..._ the red-haired girl thought, smirking cruelly. She turned her thoughts inward, watching the picture of Shandra's burning hair, when something warm and gooey hit her smack in the face.

She opened her mouth to gasp in indignation, but that only caused whatever was stuck to her face to enter her mouth. _Apples? _the girl thought, tasting the sweet flavor. _What the..._ Qara peeled the food away from her face, growling lowly, and looked around for the thrower.

_Grobnar!_ she thought triumphantly when her eyes landed on the gnome, who stared back innocently. The sorceress grabbed a nearby pie and launched it at him. "Take _this_, you little twerp!"

The gnome wondered vaguely why there was a pie flying through the air, but all thought were momentarily halted when it landed in his face. _Oh my, it's cherry pie! My favorite! _he thought happily.

Shandra had watched the exchange blankly, and now she whirled on Qara. "What's wrong with you?! He didn't-mphgm!" the blond woman was silenced by a direct hit in the mouth. She blinked and tasted icing.

Neeshka giggled at Shandra's incredulous expression and yelled, "FOOD FIGHT!" She grabbed another pie and nailed Khelgar with it.

Shandra stammered for a few seconds, then grabbed a tray of pastries and sent them flying onto the dance floor. People paused, wondering at the sudden rain of icing-laden goodies, and turned to stare at her.

The blond woman giggled uncontrollably and wondered for a moment if she was drunk. _Ah...doesn't matter! _Another pie came, surprisingly, from Elanee and landed squarely in a dancer's face.

All hell broke loose, most people racing for the inn door, and the rest of them overturning tables to use as shields. Duncan came out of the washroom and blinked when a cake sailed into the wall beside him. "What the-?"

"Eat this, Neeshka!" Shandra yelled and began firing cupcakes at her friend.

The tiefling clutched her heart and fell to the ground. "Aargh, I'm hit!" she giggled and rolled her eyes to Tasha and Bishop, who were watching the scene from back under the bar counter. "Avenge...meee..."

Tasha laughed and grabbed a pie from the counter, hitting Shandra's stomach and sending blueberries flying everywhere. The woman gasped and met her eyes, then turned the cupcake assualt on Tasha.

Bishop watched with an amused eyebrow arched as the tiefling ducked back under the counter, once-black hair now frosty with icing. He peered over the edge, considering whether or not to get involved.

"Get-_hic_-the tiefling!" Khelgar bellowed from his perch on a bar stool.

Sand, it seemed, needed to relieve some stress. The moon elf spent a full two minutes glaring at the chaos around him, then took it personally when Qara's cake smashed against his robe. Abruptly the elf shot to his feet, gathered up his robes, grinned maniacally, and began loading his arms with food.

"Take this, Grobnar!" Shandra cried triumphantly. The gnome ducked but caught the cupcake, smiled happily, and sat down to munch on it. "Ooh..."

"Heads up!" Elanee called, launching another pie. It hit Shandra, and Elanee giggled...until she realized that she was out of ammo. The druid gulped and grinned sheepishily at the blond woman, then ran for her life.

Qara lined up Duncan for her next pie, then squealed loudly when Sand came out of nowhere, tugged on the back of her robes, and dumped an armful of cherry-topped pastries down her back.

"SAND!" She whirled on him, shaking furiously, but the elf was already halfway across the room and stalking someone behind the counter.

Casavir, using the washroom upstairs, heard yelling from downstairs. _Perhaps there's some sort of fight going on. _He sighed and went for the stairs, thinking that Khelgar had begun yet another brawl.

The paladin arched an eyebrow when Elanee dashed past the bottom of the stairs, followed by something white. A moment later Shadra raced after her, carrying more white things.

Casavir briefly wondered why there was a glob of icing on the bottom step, and he thoughtfully decided to clean it up for the over-worked Duncan. The paladin walked down, eying it critically, when something smashed into his face.

Bishop chuckled when the paladin, tall and noble and completely oblivious, came down the stairs. The ranger casually lifted a pie off the counter, smirked at Casavir, and threw.

Tasha grinned when her latest throw nailed Qara, then winced when she saw poor Casavir walk right into a flying pie. A pie that most likely came from... the tiefling turned to Bishop, who was now sitting under the counter, leaning back against it, and laughing softly. Tasha tilted her head to the side and gave a crooked smile; she had never heard him laugh before. It was...a surprisingly pleasant sound. She chuckled and started to say something, but it ended in a shriek when someone pulled back her shirt and dropped a large collection of pastries into it.

The cleric whirled around to see..._Sand_, of all people, dashing away and gathering another armfull of food as he went. The wizard's perfect brown hair was caked with bits of pie and icing, his robes were splattered with food, and there was an unholy light in his eyes. "Hey! Get back here!" Tasha sprinted after him, grabbing another pie and loosing food from the back of her shirt. Khelgar gave a supporting hiccup when she ran past, then turned back to his mug.

Duncan took refuge in the hallway, shaking his head and muttering curses at whoever had started the fight. "That's going to take forever to clean up..."


	11. Home

**Home**

_I'm back! Yippie-ki-ay! Well...thanks for the reviews; when I read them I realized, 'Oh my goodness, they're right! I've created a character who is remorseful after fights, especially with people she knows, and I completely forgot to show that remorse!' So I've edited the last chapters a bit, and there's a little scene here with Retta and Tasha. That said...I've had a lot of fun with these last few chapters, so enjoy!_

"Retta. I...I have news. About...Lorne."

The woman, sad crinkles around her eyes srcunching up tightly, gave Tasha a hollow smile. "It is...good to see you. I've already heard," her voice was a quiet, husky whisper, trembling with held-back tears.

The tiefling swallowed and touched the older woman's arm gently, biting back tears. Retta had always been something of a mother-figure, a laughing face from the cleric's childhood, and the sight of her wrinkled face lined with sorrow brought bright tears to Tasha's eyes. "If...if it's any comfort, know that he died bravely. A true warrior to the very end."

Retta closed her hands over the cleric's palm and stroked it gently, looking down with a sad little smile. "It...I'm glad to know...what happened to him." She shuddered and brought one shaky hand to her forehead, brushing back graying strands of once-lustrous hair. "Thank you, child. For coming."

"Of course. Is there anything I can do...?"

"I...tell me...how did he die?"

Tasha looked away, biting her bottom lip. _Of course they didn't tell her. She doesn't know...Luskan, the combat, she doesn't know..._ "He was killed...in battle. His enemy was mortally wounded." She looked back at Retta's big, dark eyes, so very similar to her son's. "It was quick, painless. He didn't suffer."

She nodded slowly, "I see. And has he been..." the woman paused for a deep breath, as if simply talking was wearing her out. "...buried?" She struggled through the word, pushing it out through unwilling lips.

The tiefling clasped the woman's hand again. "I...I thought...I thought he should be buried...well, here. His home. I've asked a knight to have his body brought here so...so...you could do it. See him again..." she trailed off, wondering if her request to Grayson had been a bad idea. Maybe seeing Lorne would only upset Retta, not comfort her.

Retta's eyes warmed, shining brightly with tears. One slipped out and she unsteadily wiped it away, sniffling. "Th-thank you, child. I...it is our duty as family...thank you."

* * *

"Afraid the little old lady's going to attack her, paladin?" 

Casavir turned his ever-watchful stare away from Tasha and to Bishop's honeyed eyes, glinting with amusement. "Bishop, I am not-"

"Protecting her?" the ranger cut him off, scoffing. "Paladin, she can take care of herself. So get whatever it is jammed up your oh-so-holy ass out and relax a little." He sneered at Casavir's disapproving gaze and gestured offhandedly towards Tasha. "Maybe get a nice, long drink from some wench's cup, eh?"

The larger man's azure eyes smoldered, two burning coals in a setting of stone, and he growled, "Do not speak of her that way, Bishop. Mock me if you must, but not her."

Bishop smirked, leaning back against a wall and folding his arms. "See, she doesn't _need_ you standing up for her. She can do it herself." The lazy drawl picked away at Casavir's calm composure, trying to push him to a breaking point. "You seem to think our _leader_ is some defenceless lady, paladin. But the fact of the matter is..." his sneer grew bigger, even though the paladin's unaffected stance never wavered. "She can take care of herself. She doesn't need you, or anyone, protecting her. Our 'glorious leader' needs someone who can get the job done, someone who's not afraid of doing what needs to be done."

"It is my duty to stand by her side, Bishop. Something you would never understand."

"Oh, really? A_ paladin's_ duty, right?" The ranger gave a derisive snort and continued caustically, "Throw your life away for some lord or another, ask questions before you kill, defend the weak, and don't sleep around, right? Some duty." The other man started to say something, but Bishop cut him off with another sneer. "Y'know, you paladins might be less annoying if you spent less time bowing to the wenches and more time getting them tied to your bedpost."

Casavir turned away, face flushing with anger. "That is_ enough_."

"Enough for _you_, maybe, _paladin,_ but not for me. It's not my style."

The paladin turned back, retort burning on his tongue, when Sand sauntered over and cleared his throat. "As _fascinating_ as this is, we have more pressing matters than your infantile war over our glorious leader."

Both men turned to meet the moon elf's burning blue stare, glittering with dry amusement at their antics.

"You are right, of course." Casavir conceded with a nod, fully agreeing that there were better things to do than argue with Bishop.

"Of _course_ I'm right," the elf drawled acidly. "Now either decide on a threesome or leave the poor girl alone, will you?"

Casavir appeared scandalized, mouth hanging half open and large frame limp. Bishop gave the paladin a twisted smirk, caught between amusement and disgust.

Shandra and Neeshka approached, looking around uncomfortably. "Have you _seen_ her father?" The tiefling whispered conspiratorily, glancing about as if she expected him to jump out of the shadows. "Talk about _creepy_."

Shandra nodded, then looked confused. "Er...Casavir? You ok?"

The paladin nodded vacantly, still dumbstruck by the image Sand had imposed upon him.

Bishop shot Sand a dark grin. "I think you broke him, wizard."

Tasha came walking towards the group, steps heavy with swamp mud and sorrow. "Well...I guess we're ready to-" she broke off, turning around at the familiar, barely-audible whisper of boots hissing over the thin blades of grass. "Father."

The greeting was warm, brief, and polite, the tiefling giving Daeghun a quick smile but no more.

"You have returned, I see," he answered in his usual stern voice, looking just as stony now as the morning his daughter had come home smelling of hay and Bevil Starling.

"Yeah. How's everything here?"

Daeghun shifted, rolling one finely toned shoulder to more comfortably adjust the bow slung over it. "Well enough. How go your travels?"

"Okay, I guess. I've had help from-" she turned to indicate the group behind her, pausing to stare at Casavir briefly. The man still appeared put-out and uncomfortable, coloring faintly. "What happened to him?"

Sand's dry tone deadpanned, "The usual."

"Oh, he's just _fine._"

Tasha eyed Bishop, who smirked back. After a moment she turned back to Daeghun. "My friends, here. Casavir, Bishop, Sand, Shandra, Neeshka, and...where's Khelgar?"

"Stumpy? He's getting aquainted with the alcohol of West Harbor." Neeshka grinned, nodding towards a large wooden building.

"...oh. I see. Bishop, could you go get him?"

An arched brow met the innocent request. "More orders, m'lady?"

Tasha blinked, frowning. "It was just a question..."

He snorted. "I don't do fetch and carries."

"You don't have to carry him, you know..."

Neeshka giggled, "I'd like to see someone try and lift Stumpy..."

"I'll bet Sand could do it." Shandra added helpfully, eyeing the wizard with a sweet grin.

Tasha turned a smile on the moon elf, who stared back dryly. "What do you say, Sand? Wanna try your hand at lifting a drunk dwarf?"

"I'll decline, thank you."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll paaay yooou..."

"You're already paying me, dear girl."

"...oh yeah..."

Shandra rolled her eyes and headed for the building. "Oh, _I'll_ get him!"

Tasha smiled and turned back to Daeghun, who had watched the exchange with a kind of disinterested tolerance. "How've you been, father?"

"Times are hard, child. This place was weakened by the attacks, but we are rebuilding." The merest ghost of a smile crossed his face, then was gone in the next instant. "The humans here have once again managed to impress me with their resolve."

One corner of the cleric's mouth twitched upwards. "We're not all that bad, father."

"So I have seen, in them," he gestured to the town around them, children chasing each other through the fields and parents watching with the content smiles all parents wear at one time or another, "And in you."

Tasha stammered, caught off-guard by the rare show of pride. "Th-thanks, I...er..." she trailed off, looking away uncomfortably. She and Daeghun had never really shown affection. Their relationship had consisted of companionship; the simple, comforting knowledge that she was never truly alone on a solitary trek into the forest, that any creature who showed hostility would receive a perfectly aimed arrow in its eye.

He continued formally, "You cannot tarry here long. Not while you have the shard."

"Yes," the tiefling bit out angrily. "The shard inside of me."

There was a long silence while the two stared at each other, stormy grey meeting emerald. After a minute Bishop chuckled uncomfortably, "Well, well, it seems your father _and_ you uncle enjoy keeping secrets. I can see how they're related."

The silence continued, and then both dueling gazes swivelled around to lock on the ranger. He looked from one to the other, bright and sparkling green to calm, icy grey, and shrugged.

"This is...a private matter, child." Daeghun finally said, not quite looking at Tasha.

She turned on him, hands on her hips, and accused quietly. "It's something you've hidden from me for nineteen years, father. I want to know."

He looked at her for a long minute, then nodded and began to walk swiftly and silently towards their house. Tasha swallowed and moved after him, falling into step behind with the elf.


	12. Awkward Situations

**Akward Situations**

_Whoo, had fun with this one! I should let you know...I disliked Zhjaeve from the beginning, so she won't have many lines, and she may be slightly bashed...but not too much! Alrighty, I went back and fixed all the spelling errors...I hope. If you see any more, please let me know. And don't worry, Grobnar will be joining the group when Shandra dies...sob! So...enjoy!_

"I'm gonna take a quick bath," Neeshka announced when the camp had been set up. Sand sat cross-legged against a tree and brought a large tome out of his pack, nodding absently. Bishop brought an arrow out of his quiver, nocked it, and went into the sunset-lit forest in search of dinner.

"I'll join you." Shandra said quickly, dropping her pack and rubbing her shoulder.

Tasha yawned and turned to their newest member, Zhjaeve, who sat in meditative silence. "Me too. You coming?"

The gith's veiled face turned towards their campfire, eyes closed. "Know that I must first meditate."

Khelgar flopped onto his bedroll. "The ranger'd better find something fer us to eat..." he growled, eyeing the dried rations in his pack hatefully.

_Speaking of the ranger..._ Tasha turned to Casavir, caught his arm, and pulled him aside. Shandra and Neeshka blinked, and the tiefling commented, arching a brow with mock suggestion, "Well, I guess if you really want him to come..."

The faintest tinge of pink flushed his face, and he cleared his throat. "My lady, is there something you wish?"

"Yep," the cleric turned to face him, satisfied that only Sand would be able to hear, since he heard everything. "Um...look, we're gonna be bathing, and Bishop's sorta...y'know..."

His stern face grew stony, disgusted at the ranger's supposed tendencies, something that he knew Bishop was fully capable of.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and continued, "Well, could you just maybe keep an eye on him and make sure he's not...er, watching."

"Of course, my lady."

She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to follow the other women. "Thanks, Casavir, I owe you one."

He watched her go, the faintest of smiles playing around his mouth as she went, and then turned into the woods. He had a ranger to find.

* * *

"Know this, know that. Know that I have a rock in my boot, know that there is a mortal wound gushing blood in your side, know that people want to kill you..." Neeshka said in an exacnt impression of the gith's soft voice. "It's just _slightly_ annoying." 

Shandra chuckled and stepped into the water, watching curiously as the tiefling's tail glided through the water like a snake.

"Well, she's a pretty good healer," Tasha said helpfully, taking off her shirt. She paused, nervous, and peered anxiously at the surrounding forest. Two days ago she had gotten the unnerving feeling that someone or something had been watching her...

"Looking for someone?" Neeshka asked with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, but it was hidden behind the shirt. "Please. I'm just making sure no one's watching."

"Uh-huh. _Suuure_." Neeshka leaned against a rock, grinning as she scrubbed dirt from her legs. "Come on, I saw you two making out."

Shandra straightened and whirled on Tasha, who was now bright red and coughing heavily. "Wait, what? Who?"

"It was nothing, I just-"

"Our scruffy ranger friend, of course!" the thief continued happily, laughing aloud when Tasha choked.

The blond woman gaped. "Are you insane?!"

The cleric slipped into the water and rubbed her forehead. "No..."

Shandra shook her head incredulously, flinging water onto her friends. "But..._Bishop_? He's...he's so..."

"Cute in that tight leather armor ?" Neeshka supported, sending Tasha into another coughing fit and making Shandra blanch.

"No, he's so...disgusting! Besides, he probably just wants a better shot at your back."

The younger tiefling laughed, tail swishing playfully, "So? It _would_ be pretty fun, and I'll bet he's pretty good in bed."

The casual, matter-of-fact tone she said this in made both woman stare at her in shock. Finally Shandra just shook her head clear and turned to Tasha. "Just be careful, okay?"

She held up both hands placatingly, more than a little uncomfortable. "Look, it was just that once, at Duncan's party, and it was only for a minute or two. I barely even remember it." She went under, then rose and flipped her hair back. The tiefling leaned back against a rock, watching the reflection of the purple-red sunset, rippling like fire across the water's surface. "Besides, there's no _way_ I'd even _consider_...er...y'know..."

Neeshka rolled her eyes, but Shandra seemed satisfied. They continued washing in silence, until Neeshka suddenly asked, "What about Casavir? It's obvious he-hey!"

She broke off when the cleric ducked underwater again, then glared up at them.

* * *

Casavir continued his trek, plodding through the shadowy, looming trees and glancing from side to side. Calling for Bishop, he knew, would do nothing to draw the man. A sudden rustle to the left made him turn, watch expectantly, then move in that direction when nothing showed itself. A minute passed, then two, with no sound but the metallic clomp of his boots and armor. 

Then a flash of movement caught his eye. There was something in a clearing ahead, past a dense thicket...something light brown, perhaps hair. _Bishop,_ he thought grimly, then raised a hand to shield his eyes as he plowed through the undergrowth.

The paladin froze, jaw pausing in its call of the ranger, and blinked. The light brown hair, not Bishop's scruffy hair but _Neeshka's_, was accompanied by Shandra's blond tresses. They had their backs to him...and there, under the water in front of them, facing his direction and with nothing blocking his line of sight, was Tasha. He made something between a sqeak and a groan, turning away from the women, embarassed but thankful they hadn't noticed him.

What was perhaps the biggest, cockiest grin Casavir had ever seen greeted him when he turned back to the woods. Bishop chuckled darkly, leaned against a tree, and said loudly, "Casavir, out for a stroll? Great scenery, huh?"

The sound of a sqeak sounded from the spring, accompanied by splashing and then Neeshka's snort of laughter. Shandra made several attempts at speech, getting out a few garbled syllables before she broke off. Finally the woman settled on an angry, "What are you two doing here?!

The larger man stiffened, feeling heat on his face. "I was not-"

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Casavir winced when Tasha, apparently above water now, noticed him. Bishop's grin got even bigger, and the ranger shifted the conies slung across his shoulder. The paladin noticed with rising fury, anger that drowned out embarassment, that the smaller man was watching the scene at his back with interest.

He started to turn and explain, but immediately thought better of it and whirled back to face Bishop. "My lady, I did not know-"

He was cut off again, but this time by Neeshka's 'I-told-you-so' voice. "I _told_ you, Tasha! It was _obvious_!"

There was more splashing, the soft padding and the rustle of clothing. Tasha snapped back, "Neeshka, I'm sure he didn't know we were-ranger, STOP LOOKING AT ME!"

Bishop snickered and didn't shift his gaze. "Tell that to the paladin, m'lady."

Casavir bristled at that, and at the way the ranger's brow arched and he grinned at the naked women. "Ranger, turn around," he growled, low and dangerous.

Bishop's amber gaze slowly turned to the paladin, who had one hand on his sword, and drawled, "Same to you, paladin."

The eyes returned to looking past Casavir, and the sword slid halfway out of its sheath...

"So, do we get an explanation?"

He didn't know if the tiefling's voice made him relax or tense even more, but it hardly mattered. He started to answer, but was again cut off.

"Yeah, I mean...I didn't know you two spied _together_..." Neeshka said playfully from behind the armored man, causing another flush. "I always pictured you guys on opposite sides of the water, watching-"

"Neeshka..." Shandra groaned, rubbing her forehead and biting back a helpless grin.

Casavir sighed, resigned to the situation, and Tasha said quietly, "You can turn around."

He did, hardly relaxing when he saw all three women wearing only their cloaks, which dripped and clung to every curve. He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes firmly. "My lady, I did not know the spring was here, I swear it."

"Oh_, I_ believe you."

Tasha shot Bishop a dangerous look, one he returned with a lewd smirk, and Casavir ground his teeth.

"I'm curious, Bishop, as to what _you_ were doing out here." She said mildly, bringing another snort of laughter from Neeshka.

He shrugged one shoulder, bringing all eyes to the conies. "Being useful."

"Oh, _riiight..._" the thief said, grinning from ear to ear.

Tasha just shook her head, more amused than angry, and fully understanding that Casavir wasn't the type to be spying. "Okay, let's just...stop that." She narrowed her eyes at Bishop and futilely pushed against the inside of her cloak, trying to keep the wet fabric from clinging.

"Mm...no, I don't think so." He grinned back, tilted his head to the side, and continued to appreciate the view.

Neeshka started laughing again, casuing Tasha's faint flush to deepen. She shifted a few times, then stepped fully in front of Casavir, for once grateful that the man always wore armor_. It's like my own private dressing screen...wait, ew... _

"Ahem. You two," she waved one finger at the paladin, who was looking fixedly at a tree with more interest than any tree deserved, and the ranger, who was leaning to the side in an effort to see her, "Go back to camp."

"Of course, my lady." Casavir said, grateful to be out of this whole mess, though he had the feeling Bishop and Neeshka would never let him live it down.

"More orders, _Captian_?"

"Now, ranger," the cleric snarled, giving Casavir a meaningful look and tilting her head at the ranger. _Captain...ugh, I hate it even more when _he_ says it..._

The paladin turned to Bishop, eyes narrowed and smoldering, arms folded. They had a brief staredown, intense azure against glittering amber, and finally the smaller man shrugged. "Fine, m'lady. I'll follow your orders...for now."

He turned and walked back towards the camp, cocky swagger all too obvious, and Casavir followed.

Neeshka chuckled again, then headed back for the spring. The tiefling loosened her cloak and slid into the water, grinning. "Well...that was fun."


	13. Remains

**Remains**

_Uh...heh-heh, sorry about misspelling Zhjaeve so much! See, what happened was, when I typed up the chapter I had no idea how to spell her name, so I just typed it how I 'thought' it was, promising myself to go back and check it later, but then once the chapter was finished I forgot to change it...sorry about that! Anywho, here's the next chapter, enjoy! Actually, you may not enjoy...I dunno, but this chapter feels very lacking, like it was rushed, but maybe I'm just being paranoid... Oh, and I'm just double checking, cuz the walkthrough I found online wasn't clear at all...West Harbor 'is' destroyed before Shandra dies, right? _

"Oh, Lathander..." the choked whisper was the first sound they heard. Tasha trembled visibly when she rasped it out, a failed attempt to pray over the sight.

Beautiful, comforting West Harbor lay charred and black with decay in the swamp. The once stable houses and barns were splashed with soot and blackened char, most of the houses no more than a few brittle walls amidst rubble.

No one else spoke, too frozen by the sight. After a minute Tasha swallowed hard and stepped forward numbly, staring ahead with grim determination. "The...the ruins in the swamp, they...we should go there..." her voice, she knew, was mechanical, cold, but she couldn't form the words any differently. A comforting hand gripped her leathered shoulder gently, strong and firm.

"My lady-" Perhaps the paladin meant to sound comforting, but right then Tasha didn't want to feel better.

She shrugged him off and blinked back tears, saying firmly, "Let's go."

Their leader started into the ruins, staring fixedly ahead at the river, and after a moment the group followed. Shandra and Neshka both ran to catch up, walking next to the girl in silent support.

"We should find something to cross over on. A log or something." Bishop commented when they reached the river, water making acidic hissing sound when it lapped against the earth.

Neeshka turned and peered into the dark, dismal ruin. "There's some downed trees over there. If we can drag one over..."

On cue, Casavir and Khelgar moved for a log, gripping the blackened but stable wood and dragging it to the river. After a few minutes of silent, mechanical work, they had tilted it over and it was safe to cross on. Bishop went first, followed by Neeshka, Zhjaeve, Sand, Casavir, and Khelgar. Shandra hesitated before crossing the bridge, more worried for her friend.

Tasha started when a hand gently touched her arm, then turned to meet Shandra's eyes.

"Are you okay?"

The tiefling swallowed heavily and blinked, fighting away the threatening heat behind her eyes. _No. No, I am not okay..._ "Yeah. We should keep going."

Still the older woman hesitated, knowing the lie for what it was. "I'm sure there were survivors, maybe even-"

"It doesn't matter!" Tasha snapped abruptly, only one tear slipping out. She bit her tongue sharply, distracting herself with the pain, and said more softly, "We can learn more later. We should keep going."

Shandra watched her silently, then nodded and turned for the makeshift bridge.

They continued on, picking a path through the wreckage and avoiding the few bodies that hadn't been burned. Finally the cleric spoke, voice strained, when they reached the scar in the path outside the Starling house. "The ruins are to the west. Daeghun sent...me...there... ." she trailed off, looking at what was not twenty feet from the scarred earth.

The remains of the Starling house, a mere rubble of broken boards and blackened, ash-smeared wood, lay dull and lifeless on the ground...and there, a few feet away, was the family, lying in the frozen horror of death.

"Retta...oh, no...no..." the tiefling shivered, feeling a sudden chill, and tried to tear her eyes away from the scene. Retta lay crumpled, eyes staring at nothing, wrinkled face stiff. Her red dress, one she herself had made to wear for the Harvest Festival, blew halfheartedly in the bittter wind. There beside her was Fang; loyal, courageous Fang, fighting to protect his owner until the last breath.

Now there was no holding back the tears. They came freely, she didn't even try to hide it. Retta Starling, the woman who had been a mother to her...and there, lying under Retta's old body, her two youngest children.

_You tried...to protect them, didn't you? _Tasha thought the numb question, wondering absently if Retta, wherever she was, could hear her.

Someone wrapped two arms around her- Shandra, she figured- and a pair of tentative hands, more used to pickpocketing than comfort, patted the cleric's shoulders. Tasha turned, feeling more like a little girl and less like a brave leader, and cried on her friend's shoulder.

Sand was looking distinctly uncomfortable, shifting from side to side and licking his lips. Casavir watched tenderly, offering his own prayers for the dead, and for Tasha. Zhjaeve was murmuring something under her breath, perhaps another prayer of some sort. Bishop had turned his back on the scene and was watching alertly for danger. Khelgar gripped his axe's handle and stepped from foot to foot, caught between comforting the cleric and running off in a murderous rage at whoever had done this.

Tasha only cried for a few seconds, knowing that the time for mourning would come later. She took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away, wiping angrily at her eyes.  
"Sorry, I...we should be...sorry..."

Neeshka looked uncomfortable, but she gave a half-smile and offered, "Hey, it's okay."

The cleric coughed into her hand, then turned to Zhjaeve. "Well...the ruins are-" she straightened abruptly, green eyes widening, and breathed, "Daeghun!"

Shandra turned when Tasha bolted west, towards her old house. "Hey! Wait!" She heard the others following, and they trailed their leader to the blackened house which was, amazingly, still standing, though it looked anything but safe. Tasha reached the house, paused for half a heartbeat, then ran inside.

Casavir called out when they drew nearer, eyes widening with concern. "My lady, it's not stable!"

The dwarf echoed his cry, then yelped when the house creaked. "Lass, get out!"

She ignored them, of course, and everyone paused outside the charred door. Shandra winced when the house's blackened wood gave a warning creak, then raced in after her friend.

Bishop paused, wondering how safe it was to go in, and made up his mind when another groan sounded from above. He could have sworn the house even shuddered a bit. "Oh_, damn it_!" the ranger snarled, then dashed lightly through the broken door.

After a quick scan of the bottom floor- broken things on the ground, the table burned to ashes, what looked like a skinned rabbit lying in a basin of water where it had been dropped- Tasha flew up the stairs, ignoring the threatening creak. Shandra raced after her, blonde locks flying behind her. She was followed by Bishop, cursing with every step, a concerned and no longer stony Casavir, Khelgar, and Neeshka, who yelped 'Hells hells hells!' when the house shuddered and bolted back outside.

"Daeghun..." the cleric said again, flinging open the door to his room...empty. His longbow and sheath were gone, absent from the desk he always kept them on, and so was his well-worn leather armor.

_He's not here! But...just to be sure..._ Tasha whirled around and sprang to her door, pushing it in. The wood swung open, then simply crashed off its hinges and crumbled onto the floor.

The house gave another groan, threatening to collapse, and the cleric froze. _Oh, that is _so _not good_...

"Come on!" Shandra yelled, tugging at her from behind. "It's not gonna hold!"

The cleric gulped, cursing herself for the brash action, when a hand much rougher and stronger than Shandra's grabbed her wrist and jerked backwards. She grunted, twisting in the grip, but let Bishop drag her to the stairs, Shandra following hurriedly.

"Are you_ insane_?!" he snarled angrily, running lightly down the creaking steps.

Khelgar and Casavir had stopped at the bottom of the steps, doubting the unstable wood would support plate mail. When the trio came down both breathed a sigh of relief and went for the door.

Tasha ignored his question and said with a tinge hope, "He wasn't here...Daeghun wasn't here...

The ranger gave her a furious look but said no more, and then they were out in the dank muck of West Harbor's ground.

Zhjaeve watched them all tumble out in a confused heap, poor Khelgar ending up with mud smeared across his armor and beard. Neeshka visibly relaxed, and Sand coughed delicately into his palm. A moment later the charred house groaned, shook, and boards began to snap. They all turned to watch the spectacle, and within seconds the once proud Farlong house was a charred rubble in the mud.

"Are you crazy?" Shandra panted, repeating Bishop's question.

"Are you all right?" the paladin, spared from too much mud, asked at the same time.

The cleric coughed a few times, embarrassed and a little hurt. "I'm...th-thanks for...sorry."

Neeshka gave a half-hearted 'Heh-heh...heh...' and tried unsuccessfully to think of something, _anything_, to lighten the situation. Casavir held a gloved hand to Tasha, helping her up, while Bishop and Shandra untangled themselves and rose.

There was a full minute of complete silence, then Zhjaeve murmured, "Know that the ruins are where we must go."

"Er...right." Tasha stammered, for once grateful at the Gith's less-than-perfect timing. She mumbled a thanks to Casavir and started off, back stiff and eyes darting restlessly from side to side, searching for any sign of her childhood friends or foster father.


	14. Indestructible Gnome

**Indestructible Gnome**

_Okay, this chapter is pretty much just banter, since this is poor Shandra's last appearance. And I must say, this chapter was kinda fun to write, especially Sand's lines, so if ya'll liked it I may write another similar one..._

"We should have brought Grobnar," Tasha grumbled as they left the huge guardian outside Ammon Jerro's Haven.

"Eh?" Khelgar seemed confused. "Why?"

Neeshka answered for the cleric. "He'd probably understand all those weird instructions, Stum-"

"I ain't that short, fiendling!"

"Would both of you cease prattling," Sand growled as he tucked some perfect, well-kept hair behind a pointed ear, "For one moment?"

Bishop glanced up at the dusty roads and cliff-faces. "The gnome wouldn't have lasted through our first fight."

Tasha snorted as they trodded along in a tight bunch towards the highest cliff. "Are you joking? He's the only one of us who hasn't been nearly killed, so far."

Shandra stopped in midstep, face furrowing with confusion. "Hey...you're right. How is that possible?"

"Maybe he's an avatar or something..."The younger tiefling shrugged, tail swishing back and forth.

Khelgar burst out laughing and Sand arched one thin brow. "My dear tiefling, there _is_ no god of idiocy."

Tasha chuckled and swept some hair out of her face. "Grobnar is indestructable. It's as simple as that."

"Oh, believe me, _Captain_, pretty soon that gnome's gonna be a little stain on the ground."

"Not if we are there to defend him." Casavir, of course, had to return the ranger's comment with one of his own.

Bishop snorted, still scanning the cliffs for the shaman they were supposed to kill. "We, paladin? Maybe _you_ can-"

"Don't start, you two," Shandra pleaed with a groan.

Sand eyed one man, then the other, and mumbled, "Dogs over a bone."

"Do dogs have threesomes, too?" Neeshka asked sweetly, hiding a grin.

"Er...huh?" their leader, caught up in her own thoughts and oblivious to the conversation until that statement, blinked from the tiefling to the elf.

Khelgar was looking from Casavir, face red and jaw clenched, to Bishop, who was smirking as he continued the scan. Shandra was clutching her throat and making ckoking sounds.

Tasha continued looking around, now thoroughly perplexed. "What? Who's having a...?"

"Sand, please..." Casavir pleaded, eyes now closed in silent torment.

Bishop chuckled darkly and raised one brow at their leader. "Well, m'lady? If you're up to-"

"Hey!" she roared, realizing who Sand had been talking about. "That's...that's...ew!" The woman pressed both palms into her eyes, trying to erase the image.

"Well..." the elf continued, enjoying himself, "It would certainly-"

"Sand!" Shandra shrieked, making the wizard grimace and clap both hands to his ears.

"Girl-" he started to hiss, eyes narrowed and looking significantly more intimidating than any five and a half, skinny elf normally could.

Tasha groaned and continued walking, ignoring Neeshka's laughter and Bishop's lewd sneer. "Let's just keep moving!"

The thief trotted along behind their leader and whined, "But I'm booored..."

"Mm, yes, and _how_ old are you?" cut in a dryly sarcastic voice.

"Under five hundred." Her head swivelled around and she grinned sweetly. "Unlike you."

"Hey, Sand?"

"Yes, insufferably perky one?"

Tasha stopped again and turned to face him. "Er...what? No, nevermind...You've got that levitation thingy, right?"

"Of course."

"Great. Can you fly up and find that shaman?"

The wizard nodded and placed one hand inside his robes, reaching for the magnificant phoenix feather that allowed him brief periods of flight.

There was a long, akward silence, and the elf's face grew steadily tighter as he searched through countless pockets and came out empty-handed.

"Er...Sand?"

Now he was patting down his robes and mumbling in elvish, perhaps cursing.

"Hey...Sand!"

"Hm?"

"...did Qara...?" Tasha asked slowly, aware of the sorceress' fascination with taking the elf's spell components, books...anything that would frustrate him.

The perfect, thin eyebrows drew together and down in an unnerving, Sand-like glare. "Why, _yes_, I believe the idiot girl has yet _another_ reason to fear for her life."

This time it was Shandra who chortled, earning another scowl from the wizard.

"Oh, well...I'll talk to her about-"

"Don't trouble yourself," he said easily, waving one hand through the air. "I believe _I'll_ have a chat with the dear girl..."

"That one looks pretty high," Neeshka said as she gazed up at a a cliff-face. "Maybe the guy's up there...hey, Stumpy!"

The dwarf whirled on her, face already flushing with anger. "Me name's-"

"Race ya!" the tiefling yelled, already sprinting for the rocky hills.

Khelgar stood stunned for a moment, then charged after her on short but powerful legs. "Hey! Get back here!"

The rest of the group paused, giving the pair mixed looks. Bishop looked down at the ruins in the canyon, great stony pillars and ancient constructions, and snorted. "What a dump."

Sand smirked and turned to him. "What a dump," he said, looking the ranger up and down pointedly.

Bishop gave him the finger, which only widened the elf's grin.

Shandra chortled. "Heh. I guess we're...almost there, huh?"

The tiefling shot her a half-smile. "Yeah. You nervous?"

"Nah." The blonde woman waved a hand dismissively and kept her smile. "I mean, it's just a little blood, right?"

"Unfourtuanately," came a deadpan from the side.

Casavir glared at the ranger, who noticed and glared right back.

Sand watched their exchange, shaking his head in exasperation. "And how long is _this one_ going to last, hm?"

Neither man answered, just continued to scowl, unblinking.

"You two are hopeless," the blonde woman muttered as they continued on.

Meanwhile Tasha was wondering if it was hard for people to glare at each other while walking on a rocky, uneven road. "Sooo..." she sighed and placed both hands behind her head, interlocking the fingers tightly. "Neeshka's right; this place is really boring."

"So let's do something."

Sand arched his brow at Shandra. "Ever the obvious."

"I'm just trying to be helpful, Sand. Unlike you."

He sighed and turned away, not even bothering to reply. After a moment he spoke up, eyeing the still-glaring men thoughtfully. "I suppose we could give them each a stick and throw them in a pit together, purely for the sake of entertainment..."

Abruptly the stare-down ended and both women let out giggles. Bishop snarled, "And maybe you'd like to join us, wizard."

Sand gave his famous wintry smile, folding his hands inside the layers of his robe. "I'll decline, thank you. I'm not quite as injudicious as you, ranger."

The larger man smirked back, leveling a glare at the elf. "Pretty big words there, elf. Does 'homicide' mean anything to you?"

"As if you could hit me, or anything for that matter, with that bow of yours."

"How 'bout-"

"Knock it off, you two," Tasha commanded tiredly, and Sand complied. Bishop, however...

"More orders, Captain? You've been throwing those around a lot, lately."

"Well," the tiefling said crossly, "Maybe if you stopped being a jerk all the time I wouldn't have to."

Bishop arched his brow at her. "Not my style, _Captain_."

"And yet _again_ you drone about this supposed _style_ of yours," Sand said as he blew a sigh through his nose, then turned an incredulous look on the ranger. "I have yet to see any style from you, unless you count wearing those...clothes...and shunning anything that could constitute as a bath." Bishop glared at the elf, who pretended not to notice and nodded thoughtfully to himself. "Of course, making enemies faint at the mere_ smell _of you is a remarkable form of attack, my dear ranger."

Shandra snorted again, this time with a held-back laugh, and watched the ranger's eyes narrow to glittering yellowish slits. Their leader chuckled quietly, brushing more hair out of her face, and glanced at Casavir.

_Whoa, did he just grin a little? Yes...yes, I think he did! It's a miracle! A miracle, I tell you_!

"I'd watch your back, if I were y-"

The ranger's threat was cut off by Sand, who was enjoying himself. "If you were me you'd smell nearly a hundred times better, and we'd all be thankful for it, I assure you."

Shandra chuckled and thought out loud, "And if Sand were you, he'd probably kill himself in despair." She glanced at the moon elf, who showed no sign of dissagreeing. "Well...he'd take out Qara, first."

"Yes...yes I would..." Sand nodded as he gazed ahead, caught up in a delicious fantasy involving arrows and his favorite sorceress.

"Nah, the gnome's going long before the princess."

"Oh, really?" the elf inclined his head at Bishop. "Care to make a...friendly wager?"

Casavir blinked and said, with a note of incredulity, "You're betting on our companions' lives?"

"Yeah, that's right. Fifty gold, elf?"

"Fine. But," Sand added quickly, aware that the ranger would most likely slit poor Grobnar's throat the instant they got back to the keep, "Neither of _us_ can kill them."

At that, Bishop made a sound of disappointment, making Casavir bristle. "That takes the fun out of it...but whatever."

"Er...yeah, no killing our friends, here..." Tasha said nervously, wondering if Qara and Grobnar were going to meet a messy end. _Well, Qara won't be missed...hm, will we be better or worse off without Grobnar? Hard to say, though I stick with my belief that he's indestructible. _She looked from the ranger to the elf, grinning. _Heh, I wonder what would happen if they really did switch bodies...though I kinda like Bishop's smell, like smoke and wood. I wonder if Sand uses perfume..._

"Hey! Guess what- keep up, Stumpy!" Neeshka called as they rounded a bend and she ran to them.

Khelgar pumped his legs after her, grumbling unhappily.

Tasha's mouth quirked up at the pair and she asked hopefully, "Did you find that shaman?"

"Yep!" the thief skidded to a stop in front of their leader. "Let's go get him!"

"Oh, _yay_," Sand muttered sarcastically, "Yet _another_ fight." He turned and eyed Bishop gravely. "Be ready to raise your arms, ranger. The scent should stun him long enough for-"

"Shut up, elf."


	15. Venting

**Venting**

_Thanks for the reviews! Ya'll get cookies! Bishop-shaped cookies, I might add... Well...I have nothing to say. I still don't own Oblivios, the story, or any of the characters. I don't own Bishop, either, but some day... Anywho, review and, more importantly, enjoy! _

Smoke and wood, and something stroking down her neck.

"Your watch, m'lady."

Tasha's eyes snapped open at the familiar drawl, accompanied by a warm caress trailing its way down her collarbone.

_Smack him smack him SMACK HIM! _she thought wildly, as she did whenever the ranger woke her up, and, as usual, the tiefling found that smacking the spine-tingling hand away, or perhaps even pushing away the scruffy beginnings of a beard that rubbed softly against her cheek, simply wasn't an option, mainly because doing so would halt the caress of Bishop's warm, soft breath on the sensitive spot under her ear and jawbone, along her neck.

_He certainly knows how to wake a girl up,_ she mused and let her eyes drift close for a moment. _I'm gonna get a dagger in the ribs any second now...but by Lathander, that feels good..._

Finally she stiffened at what felt like a tongue at the tip of her ear. The tiefling swallowed heavily and sat up, fighting back a blush. She coughed and said, in a strained voice, "I'm awake."

"Good." He rose and moved to his bedroll, sliding into it with hardly a sound.

Tasha rose and rubbed her eyes, leaned back against a tree, and stared up at the stars, remembering. _Oh...Shandra..._ She swallowed again, biting down on her bottom lip. _I wonder if she can see me...maybe she's up there somewhere, watching all this and cheering us on..._

The cleric immediately dropped that thought, since it brought burning heat to her eyes and caused two tears to travel down her cheeks.

Then, without thinking, she croaked, "Hey, Bishop?"

Maybe he wasn't tired, or maybe the ill-concealed quaver in her voice caught his attention, because the ranger answered, "Yeah?"

"I...will you..." Tasha trailed off, berating herself for expecting sympathy of any kind from the man.

After a minute of silence, save for the crackle of the fire, his voice came again. "What?"

The tiefling's eyes shut at his tone; it was annoyed, curious...and perhaps even encouraging. Or maybe that was her imagination. She took a deep breath and said in what she hoped was a steady voice, "Spar with me?"

There was a long silence, and she kept her eyes closed. _Ah, well, I didn't really think he'd-_

"Eek, we're under att-oh! Sir Bishop! What a pleasant-"

"Shut up, gnome."

"Alright!"

Tasha opened her eyes to see Bishop standing over Grobnar, who was smiling brightly as usual. The ranger shot Tasha a honeyed glance, eyes sparkling wildly in the firelight, and said, "Keep watch."

"Okay!"

She gave him a slow, grateful smile and rose, moving quietly into the swampy woods around the Circle of the Mere. The only indication that Bishop followed was the faint hiss if his boots over the sharp swamp grass.

"Here?" he murmured absently when they had reached a small clearing, the ground slick with mud from recent rain.

"Yeah." Tasha drew her scimitars and turned to face him, slightly startled by his figure. Out in the wilds, in his own domain, Bishop seemed almost inhuman. His eyes, glimmering like liquid amber in the moonlight, noticed every detail of their surroundings. The ranger stood relaxed, sword and dagger drawn, his auburn hair ruffled and the unshaven stubble on his chin only accentuating the strong line of his jaw.

He was, Tasha couldn't help but think, and not for the first time, an extremely attractive man.

They stood silent for a minute, waiting for the first move, and finally Tasha made it. One blade high, the other low, she sprang at him and sliced his weapons out wide.

He parried, moving one foot for an easy trip, but she spun and brought both scimitars in for a slice at his stomach. The ranger leaped back, easily avoiding the weapons, and then dove back with his dagger low.

They continued for what seemed like an hour, settling into an easy rhythm, moving in practiced turns or reacting on blind instinct. After a while Bishop crossed his blades low and said, "So...this is how you cope?"

She knocked both blades back and sent a scimitar for his throat. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, y'know," the ranger answered, easily ducking and batting the blade away with his sword, "With the blonde girl-"

"Her name," Tasha ground out, kicking Bishop's leg and bringing both scimitars low in a furious, devastating attack, "Is Shandra!"

Bishop, stunned by the blow and the unblockable move, threw himself in a backwards roll, avoiding both blades, though one did slice a bit of his shirt. Coming up gracefully, he managed to pant out, "Was. She's a puddle on the ground, now."

As expected, his comment brought another whirlwind onslaught, and the next few minutes were only a flurry of glinting metal and bodies that entwined in a violent, deadly dance.

* * *

"Know that I cannot sleep with all this noise," Zhjaeve complained as she sat up, brushing aside the covers of her bedroll with annoyance. 

"What is that?" Neeshka grumbled, pulling the pillow over her head, then cursing when a horn pierced it.

Ammon, sitting with his back against a tree and his cowl low over the yellow tattoos on his bald head, answered in a gravelly voice. "The ranger and cleric are sparring."

Casavir frowned, wondering if 'sparring' would turn into 'killing each other', and leveled his gaze at the warlock. Tasha had dragged him to the Circle of the Mere with them, for no better reason than to keep on eye on the abyssal powers he carried. "They left us unguarded?" the paladin asked doubtfully.

"No, Sir Bishop told me to keep watch!" came a cheerful, bright voice from the shadows. "But now that you're awake, I can play my new song for you!" With that, the gnome began to play his lute in loud, obnoxious notes that nearly made poor Sand's ears bleed.

"Shut up, gnome!" Khelgar, not one to be woken from a deep sleep, bellowed angrily. The dwarf rose and stomped towards the sound to steel hitting steel, sounding as one long, keening ring in the forest.

Casavir sighed and followed them, leaving Grobnar to hum, Sand to nurse his ears, Neeshka to push the stuffing back into her pillow, and Ammon to watch with his weird, glowing eyes.

* * *

She finally relented, dancing back from Bishop, and they began to circle each other. He was breathing heavily from the exertion, wary of infuriating her again. 

Tasha, the ranger noticed, had been moving sluggishly until her abrupt onslaught. She had slept little ever since they had seen West Harbor, and even less when Shandra had died.

_She's pushing herself to do this...but why? She's exhausted, but all she wants is to fight. So, is it...anger? _

The ranger continued to circle her, head cocked contemplatively to one side. The tiefling was breathing heavily, but she showed no sign whatsoever of slowing down.

_Nah, she's too controlled for that. Guilt, maybe? _

The sudden glimmer of scimitars slashing in perfect harmony broke Bishop's thoughts, and he nearly staggered at the ensuing blur of attacks.

But the ranger met them all perfectly, taking deep, even breaths between parries and executing his own slashes in return. They were so caught up in the fight that neither opponent noticed the arrival of a red-faced dwarf or a concerned paladin.

Again the pair broke apart, this time gasping for air and not even bothering to circle each other. Tasha watched as Bishop slid into an easy crouch, waiting with the patience only an assassin can have for her next move.

"Feeling guilty, Captain?" the ranger purred, egging her on, but she didn't reply.

_Yeah, maybe a little guilt. For the blonde wench, at least._

"I'm surprised, Bishop," the tiefling drawled back, moving forward like a shadow for several fast, singular strikes, "That you even know that word."

He batted the attacks aside, now seeing Khelgar and Casavir out of the corner of his eye. The two had originally come to break up the fight, but now they were watching with interest. "'Revenge' comes to mind, too. I'm surprised you haven't left that warlock bleeding in a gutter yet."

"He can help us, and we need him." Tasha growled, slicing halfheartedly and then jumping back.

Casavir took their parting as the perfect time to interrupt. "My lady, you should be resting. There is much to do tomorrow."

Bishop shot the paladin a glare; as much as he was tired from the journey and the fight with the druids, and as much as Tasha needed every precious minute of sleep, the ranger was enjoying this little fight.

Apparently Tasha felt the same way, because the cleric never took her burning gaze off of Bishop. "I will, Casavir...soon. I need this, now."

The man didn't understand what she meant, but Bishop cut off his protest by lunging at the tiefling in a flurry of blows that had her on her heels, backing away to keep footing on the slippery ground.

"Shove off, paladin," the ranger snarled between lightning-fast strikes, though he knew Casavir wouldn't obey- not with Tasha wearing only the silk clothes she wore under her leathers, and not with Bishop fully armed.

_She's doing this because she doesn't know what else to do,_ he realized, giving a little smirk when he did so. Tasha was confused by the look, but she continued to fend the ranger off, just as he continued to press her. _Our fearless lead has been pushed to her limit, and this is the only way she knows to react..._

If Bishop had known how on the mark his guess had been, he probably would have had to pause and congradulate himself.

Indeed, as the tiefling met his whirlwind she thought only of the fight, the constant ring of matal and the effort of twisting her weary body away from the deadly blades. This was a fight with Bishop, plain and simple; no rules, no concerns, no thoughts of the dead, only the endless motions of parry and strike, parry and strike, just like Daeghun had taught her...

"Damn it!" Tasha roared when her back hit a tree and the ranger, smirking in triumph, closed in.

Bishop swung at her midsection, pulling his strike up short when he realized that she wouldn't, _couldn't_, fend it off. The woman's eyes widened imperceptibly and, with an inaudible growl of defiance, slammed her head into his.

The ranger, stunned and not sure of what had happened, was knocked backwards. In the barest instant Tasha's foot went behind his, like the man had done to her when they had first sparred, and Bishop slid in the mud and dropped gracelessly into the swampy ground.

He looked up, fully aware of a scimitar pressed against his chest, and gave the tiefling a smirk. "Not bad, cleric."

Tasha panted down at the man, sitting with one knee drawn to his chest in mud. Only then, looking at his bright honey eyes and wild, sweat-dampened hair, did she realize exactly how tired she was. Breath came in forced, burning gasps, every limb felt laden with metal and ached with exhaustion, and yet...she felt good. Better, in fact, than she had in weeks. The furious moments of combat, the ecstatic, unthinking moments spent in their whirlwind of steel...it had been a release for the cleric, a chance to simply forget the demise of Shandra and West Harbor.

"Yeah..." she said faintly between pants, noticing with a smug grin that Bishop's breathing was also labored from the exertion. "You too."

Khelgar cleared his throat and Casavir shifted uncomfortably. "Er...ye ready ta be gettin' some shut-eye now, lass?"

Bishop rose and Tasha sheathed her blades, wiping sweat from her soaked hair and pulling the damp, silk shirt away from clinging to her skin. "Yeah. Sorry for waking you up."

They reached the camp in relative silence, earning glares from the rudely awakened party. Neeshka gave a knowing grin and said sweetly, "Have a fun time?"

"Oh, go to sleep," Tasha replied with a roll of her eyes, making the thief's grin widen as she settled down. "You can go to sleep now, Grobnar."

The gnome stopped twirling his lute and smiled happily, practically bouncing over to his bedroll. "Oh, well, what a good idea! Good night, everyo-"

"Shut up, gnome," came a growl from both sides of the campfire, but the gnome only smiled at Bishop and Ammon.

Tasha sank back against a rock, waving away Casavir when he offered to take her watch. She resumed staring up at the sky, listening to the sounds of her companions deep, even breathing as one by one they slipped into dreamless sleep. All except for...

"Hey, Bishop?"

The ranger blew a long, tired sigh, and rolled over, facing her. "Yeah?"

The tiefling was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say, and licked her lips. After a long minute she just whispered, "Thanks."

He watched her for a few seconds, eyes glinting gold in the dim light, then gave a snort and rolled over again. "Whatever."


	16. Twisting a Blade

**Twisting a Blade**

"Okay, it was definitely _not_ one of my better ideas to come this way..."

"You think, Captain?" Bishop snapped back, glaring daggers at the cloud of dust still swirling around the huge boulders. The pass, once a gap between the cliffs of Mount Galardrym nearly ten feet wide, was now a mass of giant-hurled rocks.

"Hey! You guys okay?!" Tasha called loudly after a huge bolt of lightning, presumably from Sand, sent the boulder-throwing giants up on the cliff's edge tumbling over the other side.

Casavir's yelled back, voice barely audible through the mass of rocks, "Yes! Grobnar was hit but he has been healed!"

"Damn it."

She shot the ranger a glare, then turned to Ammon. "Er, thanks."

He gave a curt, uninterested nod, making her shift uncomfortably. If it hadn't been for the warlock jerking her away, the cleric would have been a little red puddle under a mountain of rock. Once again the tiefling didn't know what to think of the man; he had callously murdered his own granddaughter, and now he rained hellfire down on her allies' enemies.

"There's a trail up the mountain over there."

She looked at where Bishop indicated, then yelled back at the others, "We're going to head up the mountain! There's a path that leads up!"

"Ye go that way, then! We're gonna get me clan's belt!" Khelgar bellowed back, then turned west towards the fire giant camp in the distance. After a short pause the remaining members of the group followed.

_Karnwyr, go scout ahead_. Bishop mentally ordered his wolf, who loped to the steep path and started up.

"Did anyone see which way those giants came from?" Tasha asked, staring up at the mountain.

"West, from a canyon," came Ammon's gravelly voice. Tasha was hardly surprised; the warlock noticed everything.

The cleric's eyes roamed the trail, which went east, not west. "I wonder what that is..." she murmured, frowning at the smoke rising from a canyon at the eastern side of the mountain peak.

"Maybe they've got, oh, I don't know, a _camp_ up there, Captain." Bishop said derisively, looking through Karnwyr's eyes at the steep and lifeless path.

"Would you cut that out already?!" The tiefling snarled angrily, gritting her teeth.

He arched one brow and started after the wolf, smirking when the woman kept pace beside him. "What?"

"Calling me that! And mocking me for it."

The ranger paused, tilting his head at her. "What, you're not happy with the title of lapdog? Or is licking Nasher's boots not good enough for you?" She glowered, and he gave a slow, cocky grin. "Well, Captain?"

"I didn't ask for any of this," Tasha replied quietly, continuing up the rocky trail. "And do you _really_ think I care about nobility, other than the coin that comes with it?"

Bishop eyed her for a moment, then answered, "Well, at least your not completely under his finger, no matter how much you've been obeying him. Yet."

"I'm doing this because _someone_ needs to, and Nasher and his 'lapdogs', as you call them, won't. I'm not doing it because he told me to."

"Good."

Tasha half-turned at the rumble from behind, meeting Ammon's emotionless, glowing golden eyes for a brief second. "Besides, what's so bad about having my own keep? Once I've rebuilt it, with_ Nasher's _money, I'll be free to leave it with Casavir or someone who actually wants it."

"And if Nasher wants you to stick around, what then? I hear he keeps you dogs on tight leashes."

"Would you-whoa!" the tiefling slid on some blackened, unstable rocks and crashed into Bishop, who grunted and slid to the side with her impact.

He straightened and pushed her off, growling, "Watch it, cleric."

She narrowed her eyes but resisted the urge to snap back at him. "I don't care what Nasher wants. I got the damn keep for him, and that's it."

"There are ten giants waiting around the next bend," was Bishop's answer to that, and Karnwyr came padding back to him.

"Great. Try not to get hurt- I'll I've got left is spells to make you explode or get eaten by maggots." Tasha unsheathed her blades and tossed some hair out of her face. "Bishop, take the right, I'll get left, and Ammon can come from behind."

* * *

"I'll squish you, puny manling!" the giant roared as its huge foot came down on Grobnar. Unfortunately for the monster, the gnome had an array of protections in place and the foot was held up by stone skins. 

Grobnar played his lute, happily absorbed in the wonderful sound and inspring notes, and simply stood unperturbed. Casavir landed a heavy blow on a giant's leg, laying him low.

Khelgar and the fire giant king squared off, any approaching hell hounds being blow to frosty nothingness by Sand's magic. The dwarf, tiny when compared to the giant, was bleeding from a dozen wounds but attacked with relentless fury, driving the king back towards his throne.

Zhjaeve was knocked back by a giant's hammer, but abruptly her opponent sank to its knees. "Move it, Gith!" Neeshka called as she ran out of nowhere, hamstrung the giant in one smooth motion, and darted back into the shadows.

Casavir swung his weapon again, killing the giant, then turned at a soprano scream from the side.

"Save meee!" Sand shrieked, dashing away from a hellhound and running for the paladin. The larger man sprinted for Sand, already starting a spell.

* * *

The last thing Tasha heard before everything went black was Bishop, screaming obscenities, and the hellish laughter of Ammon Jerro. 

The next thing she heard was Ammon saying, "I have only one left," to which Bishop replied with another line of curses.

"This is gonna kill, Captain," came a voice from far away, then something hooked into her side was violently jerked. Tasha's eyes flew open and she gave a gasp of pain, arching her back and clenching both fists when the thing was jerked again.

The tiefling looked up to see Bishop, face no longer wearing its trademark smirk, frowning down at her stomach. She parted her lips and tried to talk, but the only sound that came out was a panted, "Ow..."

His amber eyes flickered up, met hers for a heartbeat, then resumed their abdominal glare. "Yeah, bet it hurts."

"Rip off her leathers first," came a gravelly voice from behind the ranger, and Tasha rolled her eyes up to see Ammon, spattered with burning giant blood and holding a potion in his hand. "Or cut them, perhaps."

The ranger grunted and pulled a dagger out of his boot, to which Tasha instinctively twisted away from. Instantly a line of fire raced down her side, went to her belly, and became an inferno.

"Relax, I'll only kill you if someone pays me." Bishop muttered when the tiefling screamed, then set about cutting something at her stomach.

Tasha looked down numbly to see a giant's sword- or was it a javelin, perhaps?- sticking in her belly. Bishop's dagger was moving with alarming speed, slicing away her blood-soaked leathers until they were nothing more than a pile of wet leather strips next to her body.

_Oh, that can't be good...I should say something, let them know I'm alive._ "Why is it...always...the stomach...?" the cleric managed to growl around her gritted teeth.

She glanced back up to see Bishop's smirk back, if smaller than usual. "Never thought I'd be doing it in these circumstances..." he said absently, and, before she could ask what he meant, the ranger had gripped her shirt and ripped it away from the wound, then simply pulled it off and tossed it into the pile of leathers.

Tasha blinked, awkwardly aware that she was half-naked and helpless before the ranger. "He-ey..." _Damn ranger, I'll bet he enjoyed that..._

"Don't talk, girl, you'll open it more." Ammon commanded sternly, and she obediently fell silent- talking was hardly worth the effort.

"I lied." Bishop said when he had stared at her stomach for a few seconds. "_This_ is going to kill."

She frowned, then gave a shriek of pure agony at what felt like her intestines being ripped out when he pulled the sword out in one smooth motion. Once it was out she slumped against a rock, panting, and tried not to cry.

_Bishop just took my shirt off, two of the evilest people I know are trying to save my life...there is no _way _I'm going to cry... is evilest even a word? I'll have to ask Sand later..._

Tasha settled for biting her tongue and ignoring the heat behind her eyes as Ammon mechanically ripped her silken shirt into strips and handed them to Bishop, who wrapped them mercilessly tight around her abdomen. The soft fabric made a poor bandage, but it was all they had since Casavir carried the healing kits.

When the gaping wound had, at least, stopped bleeding, the warlock uncorked the potion and handed it to the kneeling ranger. "She should be able to drink at least half of this, maybe more."

"You heard the five hundred year old man, m'lady. Drink up." Bishop lifted it to her lips and tilted the bottle, allowing a trickle of warm liquid into her mouth.

Tasha swallowed dryly, making sure to glare at her savior. _Jerk. I'll bet he called me that just because I don't have a shirt on. Oh, I'm never going to live this down..._

She managed to finish the potion, and when it was done Ammon gave an approving nod and took a small bone out of his pocket. He said a few words in a language that made Tasha's blood surge and boil- Abyssal, she figured- and a large skeleton of pale ivory bone appeared in front of the robed man.

"Wha..." the cleric started to ask, then grimaced as another wave of fire swept up her side.

Fortunately, Bishop was able to articulate her attempt at a question, and he said, "What the hell?"

"We cannot remain here; if she is not healed soon, she will most likely die. If more giants come, we can't afford to have one of us carrying her." The skeleton moved to Tasha, who eyed it suspiciously. "We should get her to the Gith."

"I'm still...here, y'know." _Alright, I actually got a few words out this time! Progress, people!...wait, Ammon's undead thingy's gonna carry me up a mountain? Half naked, no less? Uh-uh, I don't think so... _

"Whatever. Can it keep up?"

"Wait-"

"Yes, ranger. Now be useful for once and go scout the path."

"But-"

"Watch your tone, old man."

"Hey-"

"Or? I'm no paladin who will hesitate to destroy you like the scum you are."

"Cas-"

"Maybe not, but you do have a few things in common. I'll bet not getting any for a few hundred years is almost as bad as sacrificing your balls to Tyr, right?"

"That's-"

"And you probably prefer your pet wolf instead of-"

"HEY-ow!" Tasha snarled when the effort of shouting caused her side to wrack with agony. She forced herself to ignore it, though- Ammon had hellish red fire swirling at the fingertips of his right hand, and Bishop was stroking the feathered shaft of an arrow. She could practically smell the rage between them; Ammon was flame and power, like brimstone, while Bishop's usual scent of smoke and wood was suffocating. "Knock it...urgh...off."

Bishop snorted and mentally commanded Karnwyr to scout ahead again, then watched in amusement as the large skeleton picked a stiff and horrified tiefling off the ground.

"Er-"

"Either let it carry you, or stay here and rot." The warlock leveled a golden, completely emotionless gaze at her. "Your choice."

* * *

"Oh, look, it's Sir Bishop's pet!" Grobnar sang out when Karnwyr loped around the corner. The group had retrieved the Ironfist belt and was now skirting their way east along the mountain peak, towards the canyon opposing that of the dead fire giants. 

'Sir Bishop's pet' growled at the gnome, grey ears flattened against his head and hair bristled.

"Rabid, like its owner," came a gravelly comment from around the rocky bend, accompanied by the smell of smoke and brimstone.

"Shut your trap, warlock."

"Do you...ugh...ever use...names?" Casavir blinked when the ranger, warlock, and a large skeleton carrying a shirtless and bloody tiefling came around the bend. Neeshka looked from the arguing men to their half-naked leader and promptly burst out laughing.

"No, Captain, I don't," Bishop answered curtly, then glared at Grobnar- the gnome sported a mostly healed gash along his arm, but other than that he was healthy, and, more importantly, alive. "Damn it!"

Sand gave a snort of laughter at the ranger's anger at Grobnar still being alive, then cocked a brow at Tasha, who looked...embarrassed, angry, and in pain. "My dear girl, what happened?"

He was met by a green-eyed stare and a sarcastic, pained, "What's it...look like?"

The elf eyed the ivory skeleton with ill-concealed envy as Casavir and Zhjaeve moved to heal the cleric. "Impressive...for a warlock."

"Ah..." Casavir flushed faintly when Zhjaeve peeled the strips of silk shirt away from Tasha's stomach.

_Thank you, Lathander, for lingerie..._ Tasha thought as she brought her arms over her chest and blushed. _At least I'm not _completely_ exposed._ "Ah..." the tiefling breathed out when healing magic washed over her. It didn't have the same tingling, ecstatic sensations that the spells given by Lathander caused, but it still felt good. "Much better. Now...can I have a shirt or something?"


	17. Bad Things

**Bad Things**

_Thanks for the reviews! Umm...not much happens here, just a little bonding experiance...sorta...whatever... Oh, my computer's been acting weird lately, so I'm sorry if there are a lot of spelling errors or typos, but programs like spellcheck are all haywire._

"Crack them kegs, lads! It be time fer a celebration!"

Sand watched as whooping, excited dwarves lunged for their huge ale kegs, pouring the strong, foamy liquid into tankards and spilling alcohol everywhere. Khelgar grinned and joined them, glad that the his clan was no longer bowing.

"Any excuse to inebriate themselves," the elf murmured as he watched their newly kinged drarven companion. "I don't suppose we can just leave him, hm?"

"Oh, why, thank you!" Grobnar said happily as a dwarf handed him a wet, foaming tankard. "I know! I'll play a song for this festive-"

"Please, no..." the elf pleaded to their leader, who just grinned.

"Go right ahead, Grobnar!" she said cheerfully, grabbing a mug and sprinting for the exit from the magnificant dwarven halls. "See ya'll later!"

Sand groaned when the gnome happily pulled out his intruments, already humming a tune. Casavir and Neeshka both joined the revelling dwarves, sitting quietly at tables and sipping the rich, hearty drinks. Ammon, cowl once again shadowing his expression, turned and silently moved from the halls. Bishop scowled at the gnome, then seized a tankard and followed Tasha.

The elf sighed and resigned himself, walking slowly to the seated paladin. Maybe the dwarves would prove interesting conversationalists, once they were relaxed with a few drinks...

* * *

"And there's an elf up on that hill, and he's singing back at me-" 

"And here I thought the gnome was bad. You're in a class all by yourself."

Tasha flushed darkly and whirled on the grinning ranger. "Hey! Don't...sneak up on people like that!"

He snickered, walking closer. "What, you prefer foreplay?"

"...Ew." She shifted on her perch atop a boulder, leaning against the rocky walls of the Ironfist Stronghold, trying to make the blush fade. "Why're you out here?"

Bishop paused in front of the woman and, after a moment's consideration, sat beside her. "What, you expect me to listen to the half-a-man's...'music'?"

"No," Tasha grinned at him, "I expect you to get drunk and sing along."

He tipped the tankard in her direction before lifting it to his lips. "That's what this is for, Captain."

"Dont't," the tiefling said on reflex, taking a sip of her own. It was...strong, and it smelled odd, but it was good. He snorted and she said angrily, "My name's Tasha, not Captain or tiefling or whatever else you're tiny little brain can come up with. Or," she added, eyes narrowing when he scoffed into the mug, "Wench."

Bishop continued drinking for an insolently long time, finally pulling the tankard away and licking foam from his lip. He thought for a moment- when had he called her 'wench' to her face? Plenty of other names, but he didn't remember...

"Well, _technically_, it was 'whore'," the cleric continued in a conversational tone, smirking when his brows drew together, "But for the sake of your manhood, I'll let that slide."

"And the paladin's purity." The ranger frowned, trying to remember when he had called her a whore- she would have been angry, the paladin would have flipped out... "When'd I call you a whore?"

Tasha sniffed and took another sip at the strong drink, licking foam from the lip of the tankard. Bishop watched her out of the corner of his eye, brow arched. "First time I tried to talk to you, in Duncan's inn."

"Oh yeah." He nodded, now remembering. The ranger grinned, thinking back to the woman's shocked expression. "Well..." Bishop drawled, leaning back and placing one hand behind his head. "I guess it's really not my business what you do in your spare time, _Captain_..."

Tasha resisted the urge to punch him, instead snapping back, "Like you torturing Luskans, right?"

There was a long, frozen silence. Tasha wondered if that had been the smartest thing to say when she saw Bishop's murderous scowl. "Er...Malin told me."

The ranger gave an oath that would have made Casavir cringe and muttered, "Figures."

The tiefling turned to him, taking another sip. "Well? Is what she said true?"

"Why do you care?"

She was taken slightly aback by his tone and again wondered at the wisdom of bringing it up. _Especially considering everyone else is having a party and wouldn't even notice if I was murdered...insensitive jerks. But this _is_ good ale...So good, in fact, that it's another reason not to get killed by Bishop. I want more... _"Well...seems like you'd have to hate them a lot to torture them, so...why do you hate them?"

Bishop continued to glare at her, frustrated that she had invaded his privacy. After a few seconds she shifted nervously and rolled her eyes. "Oh come one, I'm not going to judge you. I've done some pretty bad things, too, so I'm not gonna point the finger."

"Fine," the ranger sighed and looked away. "I used to work for the Luskans, got drafted," he hid it well, but the tiefling noticed his brief grimace, "Into serving them."

"Working? Like what?" Tasha asked slowly, though she feared she knew the answer.

He snorted and raised a brow. "Are you really that naive? After what you've seen of them? What do you _think_ I did?"

The cleric shrugged and looked away, uncomfortable. He was heartless, he knew every terrain, he moved without making any noise...he was the pefect assassin. "...Go on."

"There's not much to the story, Captain. I got drafted into more dangerous jobs, and I didn't like it. So..." Bishop continued casually, as if discussing the weather, and watched her closely, "I killed them and left. End of story."

Tasha nodded thoughtfully, then turned and asked, without thinking, "How were you drafted?"

Immediately the tiefling regretted it, and moved her hand a bit closer to her scimitar hilt. But, surprisingly, the ranger only answered, "Got taken from my village as a kid, and was trained by an elite assassin."

The way he said trained made her shiver, and the woman said uncertainly, "Trained...?"

"They taught me and a bunch of other kids to fight," he said easily, and Tasha relaxed. But, in that same almost casual voice he continued, "Once we learned, they put us all in a room and had us fight. Whoever came out alive was chosen to be trained some more." She sucked in air sharply, and the ranger chuckled, "Survival of the fittest, m'lady."

"I...see."

"So..." he continued after a long, akward silence, "What are these 'bad things' you've done? Forgot to pray at bedtime, hm?"

The cleric snapped a glare on the ranger, but after a moment it faded into a look he didn't recognize. She absently reached up and touched the obsidian, fanged snake that hung around her neck, wondering if he had simply forgotten to ask for its return. "I...I've been praying for you, y'know. You probably don't care, but...well, I do. I think Casavir does, too."

Bishop's slightly shocked expression changed to a grimace and he looked at the darkening sky. "Don't bother. I don't want your pity, cleric."

Tasha's eyes softened and she bit her lip, drawing both knees to her chest and staring into the half-empty tankard. "Not pity, I just...I pray."

The ranger didn't answer- she hardly expected him to- and they sat quietly. After a few minutes she cleared her throat and muttered, "Oh, I never got to say...um, thanks. For getting that sword out of me, I mean."

The brooding expression on his face was erased by a smirk. "Oh? Just how grateful are you, hm?"

Tasha gaped when his amber hues slid down her leather-clad body, and she felt suddenly naked. "Heh...funny..."

The smirk widened and she blushed harder. "You know, m'lady, you weren't half-bad with that shirt off..."

"Oh, shut up," the tiefling muttered, hiding the flush by drinking more ale.

The ranger chuckled and started to say something, but was interrupted by a slim, robed figure staggering out of the stronghold doors. Sand blinked against the glare of the sunset, then turned to the pair, looking fairly perturbed.

Tasha gaped when he approached, wondering if it was a hallucination. Sand's spotless robes were splattered with ale, his brown hair was tousled and extremely un-elflike, and his face was drawn into a tight, dangerous grimace. The elf stopped a few feet away, drew himself up, straightened his stained robes and mussed hair, and growled in a voice that brooked no argument, "I've had quite enough of dwarves, dear girl. We are going back to your keep. Now."


	18. Ow!

**Ow!**

_Ah, and here is the banter chapter. Oh, uh...I sort of abandoned using the 'she said' and 'he asked' stuff. It just sort of seemed to...detract from the conversation. But don't worry, I think I made it pretty obvious who's talking, since everyone uses nicknames or has an accent or whatever. That said...enjoy!_

"Very well, Captain," Kana said gravely, and Tasha tried not to wince at her title. "I'll assemble some men; you should be ready to head out within the hour." With that, the woman gave a smart salute, turned on her heel, and left the room.

"You're taking _them_?!" Qara exploded was the woman had left. Bishop and Casavir were already glaring at each other again.

Tasha looked from one to the other and smiled faintly. "Comic relief. I'll need entertainment."

Neeshka blinked, wondering if she was serious. "Er...really?"

"...Well, that's not the only reason." the older tiefling said, leaning back against the wall. "Casavir can smite the undead, and those priests don't enjoy getting shot while they're casting spells." Ammon gave a grunt of approval, watching from the shadows of the room.

"But _I_ can set them on fire and-"

"Stand around looking like an idiot," Sand finished for the sorceress, smirking at her.

"We _shall_ do what is needed," Casavir said firmly, looking at Qara.

"Oh, of course you will!" Grobnar said cheerfully from their leader's side. He beamed up at her. "And don't worry, I'll make plenty of blast globes for you!"

Qara, still bitter at not being chose, snorted, "Shut up, twerp! You're next to usele-ow!"

The elf inspected his fingernails and gave an 'innocent bystander' expression when she whirled on him, rubbing the back of her head.

"Calm down, you two! We don't need another fight right now!" Tasha snapped before the sorceress could blow the wizard to bits.

Casavir nodded solemnly. "I agree. We should be focussing on the matter at hand, not our own-"

"Oh, of _course_ you agree, paladin," Bishop said sarcastically from his position in the back of the room, ironically behind the paladin. "After all, a dog like you _always_ obeys its master."

Two azure eyes narrowed, and Tasha groaned. _Not again..._ "Why don't you hold your tongue, Bi-"

The ranger cut him off, looking more aggressive than usual. "Why don't_ you_ reign in that temper of yours,_ paladin_? Or better yet, shove it up your-"

"Would you both _shut up_?!" Tasha yelled and slapped her hand to her forehead. "I haven't slept for more than six hours in the past four days, and you two have been at each other's throats _non-stop_ since we got back from the Haven, and I'm not going to deal with your ridiculous fighting until _after_ this is over!" Both men turned to her in surprise- usually the tiefling just groaned and tried to ignore them, but this time she whirled on them and snarled, "Now, you two _are_ going to help destroy the bridges, and you _are_ going to get along, and you _are_ going to help win this war, and _you are going to like it!_"

Khelgar chuckled at the scene; the cleric had steadily advanced throughout the tirade, and now she stood fuming in front of the two men, who had backed up until they were pinned against the desk in the corner of the room.

"Ah...of course, my lady..."

"Relax, you can sleep in _my_ room..."

She whirled away and stomped back to the table, glaring at anyone who laughed.

Neeshka wiped the grin off her face and turned to Grobnar, who was humming and staring blankly at the ceiling. "Hey Shorty- not you," she amended quickly when Khelgar opened his mouth, "How many globes for each bridge? Grobnar?"

"Hm-hmmm-hm-hm-hm-hm-HMMM!...hm-hmmm-hm-hm-"

"GROBNAR!"

"Yes?"

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"Globes, you..." the tiefling drew a deep breath and tried to calm her furiously lashing tail. "Globes."

"Globes? What about globes?"

There was a long, static silence where everyone stared at the gnome, and, as one, they all burst out;

"Globes for the bridge!"

"Were you even listening?"

"Idiot gnome..."

"I'LL SET HIM ON FI-ow! Sand! Tasha, he keeps hitting-"

"I. Said. No. Fighting."

"Know that we must know what the gnome knows."

"...What?"

"How dumb can you get, half-a-man?"

"Bishop, he was only-"

"Shut your trap, paladin."

"He is not-"

"I TOLD YOU TWO TO SHUT UP!"

"...I apologize, my lady."

"I don't."

"Oh, can I set the _ranger_ on f-ow!"

"No, you idiot girl, now be silent."

"Taaashaaa, Sand hit-"

Bang. Tasha forehead met the table with a resounding smack.

"Oh dear, maybe she's unconscious and can't go to the bridges! Who will I give my globes to?"

"Lass? Are ye alright?"

"My lady, are you feeling well?"

"She's sick of your yapping, paladin."

"Bishop, you are not helping her."

"...Neither are you. Or your god, for that matter."

"This is not-"

"Threesome or nothing, now be _silent_!"

"Yeah, listen to the hedge wiz-ow! Cut that out!"

"Never."

"Tasha, he-ow!"

"Hm. You_ are_ entertaining, idiot girl."

"He keeps on hitting-"

"Quit your whining, sorceress!" As one the group fell silent, quieted by Ammon Jerro's angry bark and the smell of fire and brimstone wafting off the man's shadowy figure. After all, no one in their right mind ticked off an angry warlock.

Tasha lifted her head and looked the man straight in the eye. "I love you."

He grunted in a 'you're-welcome-but-I-still-hate-you' way and resumed listening in the shadows.

The cleric sighed and rose wearily, leaning forward on the table. "Okay. Sand, stop hitting Qara. Bishop, stop trying to start a fight. Grobnar," she turned to the smiling gnome and pleaded, "Please, _try_ to pay attention. How many globes do we need for each bridge?"

"Oh...no more than ten, I'm sure! Ten should blow them all up!"

"Yeah, or a fireba-cut that out!"

"Make me."

Tasha's eye twitched, but she made an effort not to throttle either of them. "Sand, that's not the way to make friends."

"Yeah," Bishop smirked from his lazy positin leaning against a wall, "Now, kiss and make up."

Qara shot him the finger and Sand said bluntly, "Dear girl, I do not _want_ to make friends, I want to _kill_ her."

"Yes, well, you're going to have to hold off on that."

The sorceress grinned triumphantly. "Ha! I'll get you back for this after-ow! Tasha!"

"Sand!"

"...Ye-es?"

Their weary leader glowered at them, until finally Qara edged away from the elf, still rubbing the back of her head angrily.

"Ye got any ale around here, lass?" Khelgar grunted, sitting at the table next to her.

She shook her head and sighed. "Not that I know of. Maybe Kana knows, you could ask her..."

He grimaced, picturing the stern woman's disapproving expression. "Er...nah, I can wait..."

"We should have a plan for the attack on the bridges," Casavir stated, coming up to stand tall in front of the big, round table.

"Plan?" she blinked up at him as if not understanding the word. "Can't we just...like, run up and _kill _them? Y'know, the usual way?"

The paladin smiled ever so faintly. "It is safe to assume that they already have a sizeable force at the bridges, and a blind attack would be suicide."

_This from a man who pitted himself against an army of orcs? What is the world coming to...? _"Oh...okay, sounds reasonable. So...any suggestions?"

"It would be wisest if Bishop," he nodded towards the man, an unaggressive and almost respectful motion, and got a scowl in return, "Led the archers down the left flank, and the two of us came from the right."

"Right, you can turn the undead...and I've got some spells for them..."

"Yeah, but _I've_ got spells that could just blowe them u-ow! Sand!"

Tasha slumped back into her chair and laughed helplessly, wiping black hair out of her face.

"Your spells would_ hardly_ deter them, you idiot girl."

Zhjaeve chose this moment to speak quietly. "Know that I have many spells that can damage the undead."

Tasha forced herself to stop laughing and said, "Yes, but Bishop is an archer and has less chance of getting touched by a ghoul or anything else. Their touch does nothing to Casavir and I have spells to erase the effect, and Bishop knows how not to get hit."

"Yeah, but _I_ could just-"

"Sand..." the cleric growled when the elf's hand rose again, aiming for the back of Qara's fiery red hair, and he offered a little shrug. "Qara, you have only so many spells. Once they run out you'll be dead meat."

She scowled and the wizard brightened at this. "Hm...maybe you _should_ take her..."

"No, let's take the _gnome_," Bishop cut him off, eager for fifty gold. "We could have him run ahead with the globes-"

"No," Tasha said flatly, glaring daggers at him.

Sand brightened at this. "Oh? How about our dear sorceress then, hm? I'm_ sure_ she could-"

"Sand," Casair began placatingly, "Our companions' lives are not-"

"Don't but in unless you wanna make a bet_, paladin_."

"Bishop, it is not right for you two to wager on their survival."

"And I care?"

"You're betting on who'll die first?" Neeshka piped up when she figured it out. "Smart money's on Grobnar."

"Yeah, I know." Bishop nodded and gave the gnome a perfectly evil smile.

"Eh? Nah, fire-hair's goin' long before the little guy."

"Wanna bet, Stumpy?"

"That ain't me name, fiendling!"

"Yes it is. Do you wanna bet? Fifty gold!"

"Yer on!" Khelgar hefted his axe and turned to Qara, who had watched the exchange with her mouth open.

"H-hey, you can't-ow!"

"Be silent, dear girl, and let him-"

"Dwarf, _you're_ not allowed to kill her!" Bishop snarled before he lost fifty gold. After a brief pause he wondered out loud, "...Am I?"

Casavir placed a hand on his weapon and rumbled, "No."

"Yes, by all means." Sand said at the same time, smirking. "Though you _will_ owe me fifty gold..."

"...It's worth it."

Qara hesitated, wondering if the ranger would actually kill her. "Uh...Tasha...?"

"Bishop, don't kill Qara."

"Fine. I won't."

"...Don't injure, attack, shoot, cast a spell on, or even _touch_ Qara."

"Fine."

"...Don't sic Karnwyr on her, either."

"Damn."

"Can _I_ do it?"

"No, Neeshka."

"_I'll_ pay _you_!"

"No! No one's going to kill Qara!"

"But dear girl, we _need_ some joy in this time of darkness..."

"So kill _yourelf_, you stupid bookwo-ow! Stop that!"

"Never."

"Know that violence is not the answer."

"Eh? Are ye sure...? I thought it was..."

"No, Stumpy, it's the _question_."

"And the answer is yes."

"Bishop, such aggravation against our comrades will do nothing but breed violence."

"So stop pissing me off."

"I don't think its very good, either!"

"Shut up, twer-ow! Cut it _out_ already!"

"Mm...I don't think so. Perhaps you should simply learn to keep your mouth closed, hm?"

"Stupid hedge-ha! You miss-ow! Damn it!"

"You feel alarmingly empty in there, my dear Qara."

"...Shut up."

"Guys, _please_..."

"But he keeps on-ow!"

"Sand!"

"Yes, glorious leader?"

Tasha opened her mouth but was cut off by the smart click of Kana's boots when she entered the room.

"Captain, the men are ready for-"

"Finally!" the cleric gasped, pushing past her seargant and practically running out the door.


	19. Wide Open

**Wide Open**

_Alrighty, this chapter was kinda short, but...well, this is a Bishop romance, and I don't exactly remember Casavir's speech... Actually, I _do_ remember the first part, where he was like "There is death in the air tonight," and that sorta freaked me out. Anywho, the next chapter will hopefully be a bit longer and...ah...a bit more eventful. Thanks for the reviews, my dear readers, and enjoy this chapter!_

"Hope they're cracking the kegs now," Bishop said cockily when the trio neared Crossroad Keep. Two bridges lay in burned ruins, and an the undead army was now forced to find another route to the Keep. The ranger ran a hand through his auburn hair and grinned. "We'll have time to celebrate after our victory tomorrow."

"And I'll finally have a good night's sleep," Tasha sang happily, doing a little dance step. The ranger chuckled and Casavir, a bandage wrapped tightly around his arm, smiled fondly at her.

They reached the keep to find Daeghun and Kana waiting outside, looking stern and grave even though they had won the bridges. Tasha smiled at her father gratefully; if it hadn't been for the somber ranger, she and her companions would have met a messy end.

Kana stepped forward, her serious expression giving no hint that they had just delayed an onslaught of undead, earning them critical time. "Captain, the army should reach Crossroad Keep tomorrow evening. Our efforts at the bridges have slowed them for-"

"Our?" Bishop scoffed, eliciting a sigh from the tiefling. "Your 'soldiers' didn't do sh-"

"We won, that's all that matters," Tasha interrupted placatingly before Casavir could say anything. "And now...the fight will come tomorrow, and a good night's sleep is our first priority." The woman's green eyes were practicall shining with anticipation of rest. "And dinner, too..."

Kana nodded smartly. "Of course, Captain. There is a meal already prepared, and there's at least twelve hours before they arrive. There is time for you to rest and-"

Tasha held her breath. _If she tells me I hafta sign more papers I'm going to kill her. It's as simple as that. Or...maybe I can dump them on Sand. I think he can forge my signature, actually..._

"Make further battle preparation," the woman finished, earning a relieved grin. "In the morning, of course. The men are weary as well and would enjoy the rest."

"Great, then. The men know their positions, right?"

"Yes, Captain. I've instructed them as you ordered me to, and the watch is on duty right now."

"Good." The tiefling reached up into the air and tilted her head back, stretching luxuriously. Kana gave a short bow and walked back inside, Daeghun and, after a moment, the trio following suit. "Bishop, Casavir, you can get a meal or go to bed or whatever, I'm gonna head for-"

"Actually, my lady," Casavir's voice interrupted quietly, and she started at his hesitant tone. "There has been something troubling me as of late, and I wondered if perhaps I might speak with you..."

_But...but what about _food_, man?! _"Oh...sure, what is it?"

The paladin glanced at her and flushed ever so faintly, looking away as they turned a corner and walked towards the dining room. "Ah...in private, I meant."Casavir said quietly when Khelgar's loud, drunken singing voice came echoing down the halls. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and Tasha, out of the corner of her eye, saw Bishop's eyes narrow to two glittering, murderous slits. _What's up with him?_ The paladin shifted, meeting her gaze firmly. "Perhaps up on the battlements? We can observe the men, and there is little chance of us being disturbed..."

"Sure." She grimaced faintly, practically tasting the tension. "It's a great night, too. Let's head up."

Casavir smiled slightly, relieved yet tense, then turned outside the dining room door and headed for a stairways up to the battlements. Bishop watched, seething, as Tasha turned to follow and Casavir's face lost some of its uncertainty. The paladin didn't even seem to notice him as he followed, azure eyes sparkling.

The ranger clenched his fists and spat a loud curse, kicking at the hard stone wall and wondering what the punishment for murdering a paladin was. Probably worth it. Bishop drew his foot away angrily, scowled accusingly at the wall, and rubbed his thigh. The paladin wanted _privacy_, did he? No, no chance in hell... But first...

* * *

"Hey, where'd they go?" Neeshka asked aloud when all three figures, only barely visible through the crack in the door, left. 

"I'll get-hic!-them!" her drunken dwarven companion volunteered loudly. Khelgar staggered to the door, sloshing ale everywhere, and threw it open. "Lass! Where'd ye-hic!- go?!"

Neeshka called out to Bishop, who was striding quickly down the hall, back in the direction he had come from. "Hey! Stinky!... _HEY!_" she crossed her arms indignantly when the ranger ignored her and turned a corner, heading back outside. "Jerk..."

"Who cares?" Qara sniffed, shovelling some potatoes into her mouth.

The tiefling sighed and looked around, bored. Her eyes eventually fell on Sand, who was staring listlessly at the ceilng and shuffling a deck of playing cards. _Ah-ha..._

* * *

"C-casavir..." Tasha swallowed, not quite meeting the large man's gentle, loving eyes. _Oh, Lathander, this can't be happening... What do I _say_? What...?_ "You...you honor me, but..." she took a deep breath and shut her eyes tightly. "You are my companion, my friend. One of the dearest I've ever had, but...but that's all." 

The woman slowly opened her eyes, dreading what she would see. Casavir's face has resumed its usual stony expression; resigned, accepting. She bit her lip and continued, hoping to cheer him a little. "Look...now isn't the time, y'know? Maybe...maybe if all of this wasn't happening, if we weren't about to..." _Die_, Tasha finished silently, unable to say it aloud. _If we weren't caught up in this whole mess, if Bishop wasn't here..._ she started, caught of guard by the thought, and bit harder into her bottom lip.

Tha paladin nodded, smiling slightly, gently. "I...I understand, my lady." They stood in silence for a few moments, until he finally turned and said, "We should rejoin the others, before they grow worried."

She nodded, still unable to meet his eyes, and said, "I...I think I'm going to stay up here for a while, actually. Tell them...would you?"

"Of course." He turned and went for the door, hesitating when his hand touched the latch. "I...I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable, my lady-"

"N-no, don't worry about it," Tasha said hurriedly, waving a hand through the air. "Er...you should get dinner, we've got a big day tomorrow. I'll come down soon..."

Casavir nodded and left, shoulders dropping in defeat. The corridor he trudged down was lit by only a few torches, all of them casting thick, dark shadows against the wall, and the paladin didn't notice that one shadow was a bit wider than it should have been.

He also didn't notice when the shadow split, stretching and separating into a dark figure that watched him go and, after a moment's hesitation, silently padded to the door he had left open.


	20. When You're Vulnerable

**When You're Vulnerable**

_Well, this was fun, even though it seems kinda...well, predictable, for lack of a better word, and I'm sorry to admit that I pretty much suck at romance scenes, but oh well. Whew, when I started this story I only expected to have like 10 chapters, but...well...I just kept on getting more ideas, and now...wow, I can't believe how many chapters I've written! Whoohoo! Oh, uh...sorry, but I just turned 15 and I'm not about to write a sex-scene, so you'll just sorta hafta use your imagination if you were expecting one... Er...anyways, hope ya like it!_

Tasha breathed out a long sigh and rubbed her forehead. _Oh, Casavir... I'm sorry, I really am..._

The tiefling turned and placed her arms on the shadowy wall, looking out over her Keep. _Well...I guess it doesn't really matter. We'll all either be dead or famous after tomorrow. Heh, I wonder what everyone's gonna do when it's over. Ammon'll go back to his Haven, if no one kills him first. Zhjaeve... she'll probably just go back to wherever it is she came from. Casavir and Khelgar, maybe they'll start serving in Neverwinter. Neeshka, too. She'd make quite a living, working the streets. And Sand'll go back to his shop, of course. I wonder what Bishop's gonna-_

"Waiting for him to come back?" She stiffened at the sarcastic, bitter voice from the door leading down into the keep, but didn't turn around.

_Well, speak of the devil. Wait...how does he...? _

Tasha turned to face him, eyes narrowed. "Were you _spying _on us?"

He snorted and folded both arms, leaning back against the stony wall. "Obviously, Captain."

"Why? This was supposed to be priv-"

"Yeah, but I make it a point to make the paladin's life a living hell."

The cleric sighed wearily and turned around again, leaning forward against the wall. "I'm sure he hasn't noticed."

"So..." the ranger quietly reached out and pulled on the gilded latch, closing the door and, with a deft flick of his wrist, turning the lock. "Are you?"

"Am I what? Annoyed?"

"Waiting for our dear paladin to-"

"Shut up, Bishop. You heard- he's not coming back, and if he did I'd say the same thing."

"Hm. How sad."

She ignored him, silently praying that the ranger wouldn't go rub her rejection in Casavir's face. If he did...well, someone was gonna get hurt. A few moments went past, and he didn't leave. "So...what do you think our chances are?"

The ranger walked forwards slowly, pausing next to her. "Depends."

"On?"

"Well..." Bishop folded his arms and mimicked her, leaning forward over the battlements. "These farmers aren't exactly great fighters, and this keep of yours is a little shabby."

"Hey," Tasha said, almost playfully, glad to talk about something other than the dejected paladin, "I'll have you know that this place is a bloody _fortress_. The walls are solid, and the gates will hold back Garius' army long enough for a bathroom break."

He grimaced, turning his head to the side to hide the action_. Oh, if only you knew_... "We'll see."

They stood quietly for a minute, and Tasha finally asked, "So...er, why'd you come up here?" The woman finished her question uncertainly, afraid that she already had a pretty good idea of the answer.

Sure enough, Bishop turned to her with a very different look in his amber eyes. She swallowed and he said in a low, suddenly husky voice, "You know why, m'lady."

_Do I? Do I really? I do, don't I? _Tasha gulped again and tried to tear her gaze away. It didn't work. "Bishop..." _No, this is a bad idea. A really, _really_ bad idea... _

He leaned forward a little, cornering the tiefling against the wall. "The paladin isn't coming back."

"This...isn't about him, though, is it?" _Oooh, boy, gotta...distract him...and me...don't give in, just don't give in...but I want to so badly...by Lathander, this is a bad idea! _"I-I mean, if it was, you have agreed to the whole threesome thi-"

"Quit stalling, m'lady," he interrupted with a smirk, coming even closer. She leaned back against the wall and tried to think about _anything_ other than his hips, which were pressed up against hers.

_I do want this, don't I? Hell._ "W-we've got a war tomorrow... and it's late...we need rest...this is a...bad...idea..." Tasha stammered, trailing off when his smirk didn't leave.

"You want this as much as I do." He chuckled when the cleric's eyes got bigger. "Besides," Bishop added casually, tilting her chin up with one finger. "There'll be time to rest..."

Tasha's entire body slowly relaxed when the ranger gave her a breathtaking kiss, then pulled slightly away to finish his thought. "In a few hours..."

This time she wasn't tense and allowed him to push her dominatingly against the stone wall when she kissed back. Tasha moaned and closed her eyes, breathing in the suffocating, enveloping scent of smoke when the ranger's hand tilted her head up, and a glinting dagger sliced expertly down the front or her expensive shirt._ Hell, we're all gonna die tomorrow, anyways. But for the record, this still isn't a good idea. _

* * *

"Did she say when she'd come down?" Neeshka asked Casavir, who sat glumly in the dining room. 

The paladin's head snapped up, startled out of his thoughts, and he stammered, "Ah...pardon me...?"

"Did Tasha say when she'd come down?" the tiefling asked again, this time not meeting the man's gaze. His dejected expression, though he tried to hide it, told her enough. "She never said what I'm supposed to do tomorrow..."

"Ah...no, she did not say." Casavir gave the short answer and turned back to his meal, eating mechanically.

Sand, Ammon, Khelgar, and Qara were the only people left in the dining hall. Khelgar was lying on a table, swinging a mug of ale through the air and bellowing a lewd bar song at the top of his considerable lungs..

The other three, Neeshka included, sat absorbed in a game of poker. Unfourtuantaly the tiefling was losing, badly, since her poker-face was often replaced by a grin, courtesy of Khelgar.

Sand peered at his cards, face unreadable, and murmured, "All in."

"Fold," she sighed, placing her cards face-down.

Ammon also mumbled the dreaded word, placing his cards down and glaring accusingly at them. Sand, the lower half of his face covered by his cards, watched Qara.

"So, my dear...what will it be?"

She gulped, glancing from the cards in her hand to the elf's calm blue eyes. "I...I..."

"You _think_ you can beat me... but _really_, dear girl, can you? Am I bluffing, or perhaps trying to make you _think_ I'm bluffing? Maybe I'm even only half-bluffing; I could have a decent hand, and you _could_ have a chance at winning," he continued, smirking behind the mask of cards. "Then again, maybe we both have bad hands, but yours _could_ beat mine, though it wouldn't seem like it. Perhaps you know my tell, hm? When I flick my hair, or narrow my eyes, or when I fart, or when-"

Neeshka chuckled and Qara, who was by this point sweating, yelled, "J-just shut up! I need to think!"

"By all means," Sand swept one hand out to indicate the gold coins. "Think about all this gold, about my tell, about what you _think_ my tell is, about me not bluffing, or if I _am_ bluffing, or-"

"All in! All in!"

The elf smirked and lay his cards out in a neat row. "Full house."

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Neeshka grinned, tail twitching in mirth, and glanced again at Casavir. She abruptly stood and announced, "I'm gonna get some air. Deal me out this round."

Sand nodded and turned to Ammon, eyes narrowed. The warlock stared back, face completely expressionless, and gave the elf a slow, evil sneer. Sand gulped.

* * *

Neeshka trotted through the corridors, moving silently as always, heading for the battlements. Who knew what was going through Tasha's mind? Casavir had, it seemed, professed his feelings to her- _Finally_, the tiefling thought with a snort- and had, if his mood was any indication, been turned away. 

The thief reached a long hallway, lit with only a few torches along the wall, and saw that the door leading to the battlements was closed. Neeshka hesitated... did Tasha want privacy? Was she upset?

Abruptly she made up her mind and continued at a slower pace. If she was upset, she'd need a friend. Neeshka put her slender hand on the latch, then froze.

_What was that? _she wondered, hearing what sounded like a moan. _Is she crying? Oh, hells..._ the tiefling pushed the latch down, then frowned- it was locked.

_That's weird,_ Neeshka thought absently, but figured her friend had simply wanted to keep Kana or any other annoyance out. She sighed and started to pick the lock, then stopped again.

Her mouth dropped open at the next sound, one she recognized quite well as something other than _Tasha's_ voice. The tiefling slowly drew her hand back from the latch, then fell against the shadowy wall, giggling quiely.

_Hah, I _knew_ she'd choose the ranger! I _so_ called that! Stumpy owes me twenty gold, now! _she rolled her eyes at the continuing sounds, still chuckling quietly.

Abruptly she shot to her feet, eyes wide. _Wait, she and Bishop are...oh hell, this is good, this is so good..._ "I...I..." Neeshka looked around at the empty hallway, then grinned broadly and took off at a sprint back towards the dining room. "I've gotta tell someone!"


	21. Blindsided

**Blindsided**

_Aw man, I hated this part of the game...oh well. Enjoy!_

Tasha waited until the last of the Keep's soldiers- _her_ soldiers, she thought with both a grimace and a stab of pride- headed through the door. Ammon and Sand appeared, looking surreal in the clouds of dense smoke they had created with their maelstrom of fire.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," the cleric said, relieved. Nearly every tower had been hit with fireballs, courtesy of Sand, or had simply imploded at a word from Ammon before they even reached the Keep's walls. Any undead that had managed to breach had been dispatched by elite dwarven fighters, hardy warriors that fought as well as they held their ale.

"We're not done yet," Ammon murmured, gravelly voice seeming appropriate to the haze of smoke, accentuated by the shadowy light of the early morning hours.

No." Tasha sighed, passing a weary hand across her brow. After a glorious eternity with Bishop she had finally nestled exhausted into lush, silken sheets, only to be rudely woken up not twenty minutes later when Garius' army came knocking. "No, we're not."

Sand grunted and went through the door, his slim figure no more than yet another shadow. The cleric sighed resignedly and followed, rubbing her eyes.

_Maybe I can...I don't know, tell them I need to use the washroom and then never come back. I'll sleep for hours and hours, and when they ask where in the Nine Hells I was I'll say the Gith came back and kidnapped me...yes, this is definitely one of my better ideas. Foolproof, completely fo-"_

"They're only a few hundred yards off, Captain," Kana reported gravelly, eyes alight with the adrenaline already coursing through her.

_Aw, rats... _She glanced around; soldiers stood in the courtyard, ready to fight to the last breath...and, with any luck, get in a nap after that... "The men know their positions?"

"Yes." The woman turned and gave a signal, raising a hand and flicking two fingers towards the gate. Apparently it was a signal, because a Greycloak immediately went to pull the lever to close it. "They are ready to follow you now."

_Gee, she sounds so melodramatic. I feel like I'm walking into a graveyard. _

Kana continued, voice echoing loudly through the courtyard. "The undead cannot face the sun; they will burn in their seige, and will be defenseless from our attacks from above."

"Yes," Tasha jumped at the cold, steely voice from behind her. _What's he doing down here?_ "Defenseless."

Bishop stood with his bow clenched tightly, jaw firm, and the cleric blinked at him. "What are you-"

Abruptly the soldier at the gate turned, confusion and utter panic etched across his young face. "C-captain, the gate...it's not closing! The hinges are ruined!"

Tasha went completely numb as a horrible idea, a possibility supported by her lover's grim expression, started to form in her mind. "It..._what_?"

Bishop came a few steps closer, scowling heavily. "Stay here on the walls, _Captain_; you might live through this." Tasha felt the blood drain out of her face as she stood, completely stunned by the ranger's harsh expression, contrasting with the regret in his next murmur. "For what's it's worth...you almost made me stick around. But that's why I _have _to so this."

"Bishop...wh-what are you talking about...?" _No, he can't _do_ this! He _can't!

The ranger sneered at her and pushed a solier aside, stalking towards the gate. "Let me show you..."

Tasha's mouth dropped open when he paused beside the gate lever, then turned back to face her with his head tilted to one side. "This gate of your isn't coming down, which means this precious Keep of yours won't last much longer."

He looked the tiefling straight in the eye, brow furrowed. "Don't bother trying to repair this...I took a look at the lever last night, and it was much easier to detroy than I thought."

_Last night? Oh no, oh no no no no no no no... _Tasha moved her mouth, but all that came out was a strangled, choked off moan that she swore made the ranger flinch.

Bishop licked his lips and steeled himself again, lifting his head and meeting the woman's confused, hurt eyes. "You'll see the wisdom of this in time." He took a breath and clenched his jaw, cursing her soldiers for being there, for keeping her there, and said quietly, "Y'know, the road to the winning side is always open."

Tasha felt dazed by the offer but managed to wordlessly shake her head, praying for strength and courage. _Damn you, Bishop...why'd you hafta go and do that...? Damn it all... _

Bishop gave a little chuckle, mocking himself for thinking that maybe, just maybe, she would have left with him. Tasha finally managed to open her mouth, something Kana and the soldiers seemed too stunned to do, and pleaded, "Bishop, please..._ don't_...stay, _please_..."

The cleric actually took a step forward, then stopped when the amber eyes grew hard and the ranger scoffed. Tasha's eyes blurred when Bishop, without another word, turned and ran silently out of the courtyard.

Tasha numble watched him go, hardly noticing that, with his departure, the first of the undead became visible through the open gate. The first figure, no more than a hundred yards away, was pale and red eyed, with limp strands of greasy black hair and fangs that glistened in the shadowy light. It looked, she thought distantly, like a gate into the hells themselves.

Kana saw the shadowy army approaching and called out, "They are advancing!" She turned gravely to their limp, expressionless Captain and asked, "Your orders, Captain?"

Tasha started and turned, open-mouthed. "Er...what?"

"Your orders?"

"The sun...they fear the sun..." she murmured distractedly, trying to erase the harsh, burning golden eyes that still pierced her mind.

Abruptly a door on the other side of the courtyard was thrown open, and the rest of her companions came out, Khelgar in the lead. The dwarf charged up to his leader and grinned. "Sorry I'm late, lass! The tiefling-"

Casavir cut him off, voice uncharacteristically sharp. "Why is the gate open? The army is nearly upon us."

"Yes," Tasha sighed, not sure of whether to cry, laugh, or maybe just lay down and sleep. "Yes, it is."

Neeshka gave her a weird look, "Yes..._ why_, exactly?"

"Captian!" Kana sounded almost frantic, stony expression long gone. "Your orders?"

_This is a fight, a fight, you need to fight, you _have_ to fight..._ the cleric told herself repeatedly, squaring her shoulders and turned to face the men. "The undead will fear the light. This day will be ours. Hold your positions, keep them out of the Keep."

The Greycloaks saluted as one and turned, seasoned men and teenagers alike ready to face the undead.

Neeshka finally put two and two together; Bishop had seemed angry about something last night, he was nowhere to be seen now, the gate was obviously not working, and Tasha looked upset. "Aw, gee..." she groaned inwardly, wishing Shandra was there; the blonde woman had been quick to comfort, unlike the purse-lifting Neeshka. "I...er, I'm sorry, that really sucks..." the tiefling offered akwardly, nervously patting her friend's shoulder.

Tasha shot her a grateful glance from the corner of her eyes and shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We have a battle to win."

"What? _What?_" Qara broke in, not having figured it out.

"Bishop sabotauged our gate," the cleric explained wearily, turning to face the other direction. "He ran off."

She couldn't see Casavir, but from the gentle hand that laid itself on her shoulder Tasha guessed that he was right behind her. "My lady-"

"Look, there's an army coming, so let's just forget about it!" she snapped angrily, blinking back a few treacherous tears. "It doesn't matter!"

Casavir flinched at the way her voice broke towards the end but backed off. He, like nearly everyone in the Keep, had learned of what their Knight-Captain had been doing on the battlements last night,-thanks to Neeshka and her gossipping ways- and felt both hurt and the need to comfort the woman.

Khelgar smiled reassuringly and rumbled with a note of pride, "Aye, yer not broken yet, lass! We got some zombies to squish!"

"Ah, yes," Sand agreed dryly, pulling out a ruby-tipped wand and rolling it between his slender elven fingers. "Let the squishing begin..."


	22. Ruptured

**Ruptured **

_Eh, sorry for not updating for a while- school started, so...well, there wasn't much time to write. But to make up for it, this is one of my longest chapters yet! Okay, so here's what's gonna happen; this chapter is, optionally, the end. Optionally, though. For those of you who were happy with the game ending, this is your 'last' chapter. There _will_ be one more chapter, but it's really more of and...'alternate ending', sorta, for those of you who, like me, wished maybe it could have ended a bit differently. I don't think I'm making much sense, but whatever. And to avoid any confusion later on, ya'll should know that I changed the titles of a few chapters. Oh, and uh...I couldn't remember much of what Bishop said in his little speech, and I dunno where to find out, so I just sorta made stuff up. That said, enjoy the unofficial 'last' chapter! _

The first thing Tasha saw when she opened the huge doors was Neeshka, kneeling in the center of the room. The thief was trembling, one horn badly chipped and blood trailing snake-like patterns down her ripped leathers. Neeshka forced her pale, sweaty head up and offered a faint smile, more pain than relief. "I...I waited for you. I _knew_ you'd come..." she trailed off, shivering and clutching at the ruined armor.

The cleric sucked in a sharp breath, then dashed for her friend, the others close behind. "Neeshka, what happened?!"

Khelgar charged ahead furiously, reaching the shaky tiefling first and supporting her bloody form as she stood. "Fiendling, what'd he do to ye?!"

"G-garius," she groaned, slumping against the dwarf. "He...he _tortured_ me! Trying to get me to...to turn on you!" Her normally cheerful voice cracked towards the end, accentuated by a violent shudder that wracked her body.

Zhjaeve had already begun a healing spell, and her final arcane murmurs caught Neeshka in a warm, soothing glow.

Casavir looked around warily. "Be alert- there is a presence-"

No sooner had he spoken than Garius himself, his skull wreathed in flame and the fleshless, pale bones stretched into a macabre grin, appeared in a flash of silent, greyish light. Khelgar threw himself in front of the group, hefting his hammer as if he meant to protect them all.

"Look out!"

Sand inclined his chin in an almost formal greeting and said acidly, "Ah. Garius. I thought I heard the shadowy slithering..."

Garius ignored the elf's tone, instead turning to Tasha and saying, almost casually, "I must admit, you have managed to impress me. But _really_, what did you think you could accomplish, coming here?"

Tasha bristled when his next words came out, now cold and threatening. "You have done much to disrupt our efforts, though it was in vain. But you will answer for it...and you alone."

"Alone?" the cleric growled, comforted by the anxious movements of her companions. "I don't think so."

Again Garius' tone changed, becoming almost gentle. "I am prepared to offer mercy to your companions. They followed you and your orders, not their own. I spoke at length with your friend Neeshka here," -Tasha, out of the corner of her eye, saw the tiefling pale and clench her fists, defiant as usual- "And with some others you have travelled with with."

Tasha tensed for an instant, but the oddly reassuring presence of Ammon Jerro, a silent figure with the power of hell at his fingertips, reminded her of their reasons for being there. _Gotta see this through. West Harbor, Amy, Shandra, the men who died... hells, we gotta see this through..._

"Ah, but you have already felt the fractures growing in your little group," Garius continued, and he flicked both flaming blue eyes to Sand and Qara. "Whether it be the paths to power... or simply those who can think for themselves, and recognize the _true_ enemy here."

Tasha felt her blood freeze when Casavir growled, "Bishop."

And there he was, stalking from the shadows of the room and holding his bow out, almost like a shield. Tasha swallowed when the ranger stopped a few feet from Garius and faced her, head slightly bowed and eyes glittering.

"My debt to you is over, Knight-Captain. And the strange thing is... I'm a little sorry about it. For what it's worth, I almost kept going for you, right there until the end. But your uncle...some things are just too hard to get past. Even..." he faltered for a moment, casual demeanor cracking to reveal uncertainty. Tasha winced when the ranger continued, hearing- or perhaps it was only her imagination- a tinge of regret in his tone. "Even with everything else."

"Bishop..." Tasha clenched her fists, feeling rage and sorrow and well up in the pit of her stomach. "Dammit Bishop, don't _do_ this!"

"I can't _help_ it. Getting tied down, even to a feeing...it just isn't my style." Bishop tightened his grip on the longbow, the thing that kept him attatched to this grim reality, and managed to force a smirk that made the cleric wince again. "The most frustrating thing about it? When I met you, I thought it would be as easy to hate you as I did Duncan." He tilted his head up and met her eyes, narrowing his own. "But I don't hate you... not at all."

Tasha almost forgot that Garius, imposing as he was, stood near her lover. _Ranger, what in the hells are you _doing_?! What are you trying to say...? _

"But see, that's the reason it's going to end like this. I'm not going to be tied to anyone or anything again."

This time she managed to keep herself from flinching at his cold, steely tone. "Can you...at least tell me _why_?"

Bishop opened his mouth, but Garius cut him off. "Oh, do go on, Bishop. We have some time before our Master arrives, and then none of this will matter."

The ranger shot him a glare, and was ignored. He gave the Shadow Reaver a long, measuring look before turning back to Tasha. "You see, _Captain_-" she clenched a fist at the loathing that accompanied the title- "For every West Harbor that gives rise to someone like you, someone great, there's a hundred of me, people who end up going down the other path. I already told you about the Luskans, how they _recruited_ me." Bishop spat the sarcastic, hated word and, unconsciously, his eyes flickered for an instant to Garius.

"After I became one of their better-paid mindless tools I had do something for them... I had to prove my worth. They told me I had to destroy a village, one of my choosing..." his next words, spoken so very casually, made Tasha go numb. "I decided to take care of two problems at once, and I chose my own."

"Your..._what_?" _He destroyed a...? No, no he couldn't have...that doesn't make any sense... _Aloud she managed to croak out, "But...that doesn't make _sense_... why would you choose...?"

Bishop felt a surge of anger, remembering the day he'd been dragged, kicking and screaming, from his parents, and snarled, "They did _nothing_! My own _parents_ watched as I got dragged off, too concerned for their own precious skins to worry about _mine_..." he cursed himself for that lapse in discipline, hating the look of pity and shock that crossed Tasha's face as a result of his outburst.

_His parents... hells, I had no idea... _"I-"

The ranger cut her off, knowing that the cleric's warm, loving attempt at comfort might shatter his already shaky resolve. "A bunch of their soldiers went with me, making sure I did the job right. I started having second thoughts, starting wanting to get out of the whole mess. We got to the village, and I made up my mind..." Tasha's eyes widened and she waiting for the ranger's next words, hardly daring to breathe. "I set up fires around the perimeter, trapping the Luskans inside," he actually smiled bitterly at the horrible irony of it all when the cleric breathed out, no doubt inwardly rejoicing at his herioc change of heart.

"I told the villagers to get out, to run...but they wouldn't listen, especially when _I_ told them. So the villagers...those fools," despite Bishop's harsh words, Tasha felt her chest constrict at his tone, "The all got caught in the fire, like...like sheep, trapped in a coral. Not all the soldiers burned, either- I took a few hits, barely got out of the fires alive. I wasn't going to make it... But I didn't care, because for the first time I was free, I felt all these chains fall off...and then _Duncan_ showed up, found me dying outside the burned village, and he tied me to that place, tied me to the Luskans, tied me to the past..."

_And you hate him for it? You didn't want him to save you? I don't understand..._

"He brought me back and then he said I _owed_ him, in that stupid joking voice of his... But I knew what he meant- he was blackmailing me, threatening to tell the Luskans I had been at that village."

Tasha stiffened and bit out, "So why didn't you just kill him?"

Bishop shrugged. "Duncan could have told anyone...and if I killed him, someone could have carried out his threat. So I was trapped, waiting in that dump of an inn for your uncle to call in his _favor..._" The ranger tilted his head up, meeting her gaze squarely. "And that's where you came in, and Duncan called in my debt. You know the rest, Captain."

The woman felt a surge of confusion and objected, "But... Duncan told you to help save Shandra..." She narrowed her eyes angrily, hardly daring to hope that the ranger might explain his reasons for sticking around. "After that...dammit, it was _your_ decision to stay with us! This whole debt, your excuse... it doesn't make sense! You could have left anytime, but you _chose_ not to!" She trailed off, trembling with pent up emotions, and winced at the way her voice echoed hollowly around the huge chamber. She swore she could hear Garius give a little snort of mocking amusement, and it only added to the fury.

Bishop frowned back, raising one brow and giving Tasha a blunt look. She looked at the ancient stone floor and said quietly, "So...because Duncan saved your life, you're going to take mine?"

"No telling what Duncan had told you, so yeah, that was the plan. But things got complicated, you got dragged into this whole thing...and now here we are."

_Yes,_ the tiefling agreed silently, with more than a pang of sorrow, _Here we are. About to kill each other. I never would've imaginied...hell, what a screwed up world this is..._

"I...I understand," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "And Bishop...look, for what it's worth...I'm sorry."

Bishop gave a long, painful sigh, looking at one of the huge stone pillars. "...Yeah. Somehow I knew you'd say that."

Tasha took a little comfort in his obvious uncertainty. "Y'know...you_ can_ just walk away, or fight on _this_ side. There's still a way out of this, still a choice..." she trailed off, disheartened by the ranger's continuing silence.

"Well, then," Garius broke in, giving the ranger a bored, slightly mocking glance. "If you two are through with this _touching _scene, there are important matters at hand.

Bishop snapped his head around, fixing the Shadow Reaver with a hating glare, and Tasha jumped at the opportunity. "My, was that an _order_? From a _Luskan_, no less? My my..."

She grinned and thanked Lathander when the ranger's golden orbs flicked back to her and he snarled, "Shut up. I know what you're trying to-"

"Bishop, be silent." Garius said casually, and Tasha felt her hopes soar when Bishop's head, with a slow calmness that promised murder, turned to his 'ally.'

"Y'know, _Garius_," he gave a slow, cruel smirk and tilted his head to one side. "I think it's about time you stopped putting people between you and the Captain here. I'm done... have fun fighting her by yourself."

Tasha smiled broadly when the ranger turned and, with the same noiseless, self-assuered gait she was so used to seeing, walked calmly to the room's only other exit. Garius turned and snarled, "If you leave here, ranger, you will die! I will hunt you down and-"

"Garius," Bishop interrupted, not pausing for an instant, "_You're_ going to die if you stay." And then he did turn his head, if only slightly, to offer a little nod of farewell and give Tasha one more glittering, honeyed glance. "Captain."


	23. Untied

**Untied**

_Ah, the final chapter... so, here's my little fantasy of what might've happened at the end of the game. Sorta cliche, maybe, but...well, whatever. Sorry if Bishop's actions seem a little OOC- I tried not to make him too 'lovey-dovey', as my friend likes to say. By the way, I've heard of/read stories where Elanee comes back for the final fight, but that never happened in my game...dunno if that was a glitch or whatever. Oh, uh...I've been toying with the idea of a sequel, but I dunno if that's gonna work since Mask of the Betrayer is coming out soon. But...if anyone likes the idea of a sequel- I certainly do- just lemme know and it'll help my decision... And with that, my dear readers, enjoy the final chapter!_

"Sand!" Tasha bolted for the moon elf, rolling past one of Garius' raging shadow golems and sliding to a stop next to him.

Sand finished his spell, sending an arc of blue-white lightening at Qara, and whipped around to face her.

"Hit Neeshka," the cleric panted, clutching a long rip in her side and grimacing, "With a holding spell."

He complied and the tiefling, already weakened by Garius' geas, succumbed easily to the effects. Tasha murmured a healing spell and glanced around; Casavir and Khelgar were, slowly but surely, backing Garius into his own magical wall. Qara was being, cruelly, held at bay by Ammon. Grobnar was running along behind his golem, singing and playing the invisible lute which, unsurprisingly, actually made music. Zhjaeve was calling down holy power and unleashing it on a huge, flaming balor.

_Hey, we might win,_ she thought with a hopeful grin as the long gash knitted itself back together. _But... _Tasha's gaze was drawn to the huge, flaming white portal at the center of the chamber. It was humming with energy, sending out little arcs of bright lightning. _I don't like the looks of that..._

* * *

Bishop sprinted along the corridor. He felt, unnervingly, the ancient stone under his feet occasionally tremble due to the battle going on under him. The ranger, bow in hand, skidded around yet another corner and, moving instinctively, for his thoughts were far away, continued running. It was only a few more hallways, and then he would reach the swampy outside world, a place he knew well. 

_Almost there, almost there, gotta keep- dammit, what the _hell_ was I thi- no, gotta keep going, almost there... _Bishop repeated the litany over and over in his head, panting much more turbulently than a short run should have caused. _Almost out, almost there_...

* * *

Tasha finished her healing spell and wearily patted Grobnar's arm. 

"Why thank you!" he said, hardly looking worse for wear.

The cleric straightened and looked around; her companions were healed or being healed. Garius, his head several feet from his body, courtesy of Khelgar, lay crumpled in a bloody heap of bone and velvet robes near a statue. Neehska crouched where Sand's spell had held her, unable to move but fully aware of her surroundings. Qara hadn't been so fortunate; Ammon's fiery retribution for the sorceress' betrayal had dropped her in an instant.

"He comes."

Tasha turned at the gravelly, ominous voice. Ammon, yellow eyes practically glowing from the fight, was facing the trembling portal. She glanced at it and blanched; sizzling white arcs of magic shot out at random, circling in the air for a moment before they died down to little sparks.

"Wonderful. Fantastic, even," she muttered sarcastically, wiping away some sweat. _Ah, and now we probably die. But by Lathander, I'm taking him out with me._

Casavir placed a hand, steady even after the hell Garius had thrown at them, on the tiefling's shoulder and said reassuringly, "Fear not, for we _will_ overcome him."

Tasha offered the paladin a faint smile, hiding her unease. _I wish I felt as confident as he looks... but hey, we've got Ammon on our side. That oughta count for something._

She glanced to the warlock and, while he didn't move, only stood motionless, Tasha felt somewhat better. Ammon had beaten the King of Shadows once, all by himself, and she didn't need to see the charred golems lying throughout the room to understand that he was capable of some serious damage.

"Zhjaeve, what do you know," Tasha started, almost dreading the Gith's answer, "About a geas? Can it be...I mean, can we help Neeshka?"

"I cannot say. Know that it may destroy her very soul."

Tasha nodded, her sight blurring momentarily. _She'll be fine, she has to be..._ "We'll take her with us when we leave," the tiefling said slowly, unable to look at the thief. "But first...well, first we've gotta finish this."

Sand sighed and smoothed his hair back. "Yay."

* * *

Bishop swore and rammed his head into the wall, repeating the action several times. _Damn it all, why'd I bloody _do_ that?! Why'd I...hell. _Some swamp muck, oozing and slimy, had slid into his soft leather boot. The ranger swore again and backed up, into the entrance of the ruins. 

The subtle vibrations from the fight below had stopped, but Bishop knew she was still down there. They all were, celebrating their glorious victory over the big bad Garius. Or... his breath caught in his throat. Garius was formidable, he knew that from experience. He was clever, powerful, he didn't play by the rules... Bishop felt a surge of panic, foremost in his maze of emotions, yet something he hadn't felt for years, well up. Hells, what if...

The ranger turned and slammed his fist into the damp stone wall, trying to clear his head. Tasha was just another obligation, another tie to his past, it was better if she, and the maelstrom of conflicting emotions she was causing inside of him, died. And yet...

The very thought of the cleric lying dead, at his doing, no less, made a feeling of nauseating dread wash over Bishop. The betrayal had seemed like a convenient way to sever his ties to Tasha and her band of misfits, but now... Now it was hitting the ranger full force, and it was starting to seem like the worst mistake of his life. But, Bishop reminded himself angrily, he hadn't had a choice. She was Duncan's niece, an obligation, and preference or feelings didn't matter.

...What was it Tasha had said? 'There's a choice, some people just don't see it'? Was that it? He'd decided, when she had said that, that the tiefling was a blind fool. But... Bishop slumped against the slick wall and breathed heavily, shutting his eyes. What if she'd been right? What if there really was another choice...?

Hells, maybe she was down there right now, at the mercy of that Reaver, or his thrice-damned master. Maybe she was already dead... Bishop felt his heart skip a beat at the thought.

"It doesn't matter," he growled out loud, then winced when his voice echoed hollowly, lifelessly, through the dank air. Bishop grimaced and looked out at the swamp, only slightly lighter than the black entrance he leaned in. There were no more obligations; he was free, untied, and yet...

Bishop stared at the mire and felt himself go numb. As far as he could see, in every direction, was mud. Slimy, rotten, thick muck that housed only dead things, shrouded in even thicker fog, and all of it overcast by a few feeble gray rays from the sun. This...was freedom?

The ranger gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head at fate's cruel, twisted irony. So...here it was; his freedom, the only thing he had held on to. For years it had been an idea, a final, dark hope, and now that it was tangible...

_'There's a choice...' _the memory of Tasha's voice, sad and thoughtful when she had said the words, made Bishop's head turn slowly back in the other direction. What if she wasn't dead? What if she, against all odds, she was still fighting? What if... Bishop sucked in a breath, thoughts whirling out of control like a tornado. What if she needed help? What if she needed him...?

And in that moment, like a moment in the eye of a storm, the decision didn't seem so hard.

* * *

"Casavir, watch out-!" 

Tasha's scream caught in her throat when the King of Shadows, his countless replicas destroyed, threw its massive body at the paladin, claws outstretched. Khelgar threw himself _onto_ the creature, his hammer crackling when it met the shadow. Casavir braced himself but didn't try to move, refusing to abandon the gnome who, standing behind him and without any real armor, could only rely on Casavir's plate mail to save him.

The cleric, reacting purely on instinct, began the most powerful spell she knew, arcane words pouring out in a desperate torrent. But it was too long, she wouldn't finish it in time...

Ammon Jerro, actually _laughing_- and sounding much more demonic than their infernal enemy- sent his black and red fire at the King. Casavir managed to stumble backwards, sporting five long, acid-dripping tears in his armor. The huge monster, knocked backwards by Ammon's hellish barrage, shrieked and twisted around, knocking Khelgar away.

Sand, everything but his tidy, perfect brown hair splattered with blood, finished his spell. The King of Shadows bellowed louder when the moon elf's missile volley hit him in the face, and the massive shape turned to fix its obsidian eyes on the nuisance.

"Die, fool..." it purred, although the words came out as more of a roar. Sand, in turn, screamed something in elvish and jumped behind the remains of a pillar.

Zhjaeve began to heal Casavir at the same time Tasha's casting finished. Sand was saved from a messy end when a ray of pure, holy magic hit their enemy in the side. The King of Shadows, perhaps seriously injured by Lathander's wrath, or, more likely, recognizing the Sword at Tasha's side, turned and, faster than any creature its size should have moved, lunged for the cleric.

Tasha set her feet and met his charge, even got in a hit with one scimitar, before she was sent flying backwards and both blades were half-melted by a slash of acid-tipped claws.

_Oh..._ she thought dimly when the monster, shadow billowing around his form, stepped closer. The cleric felt, faintly, a warm tricke at the back of her head, sliding down the nape of her neck. _We were so close..._

Khelgar sprinted for the stunned woman, hammer raised high, but Tasha knew he wouldn't make it. Ammon wouldn't, either; unbelievably, the warlock's constant stream of fire hardly deterred the monster.

Tasha tried to move, but pain lanced through her leg and she paused. She couldn't run away, not with a broken leg, and there was no hitting the mostly corporeal mass before it was on her.

She sighed; she had expected to die, but she had wanted to bring down the King first. Well, maybe the others would manage well enough...

A moment before the King's claws came down, dripping their foul acid, Tasha felt a breath of wind at her ear and something flew past her eyes. For an instant, the tiefling wondered if your life did indeed pass before your eyes right before you died.

_Huh. I always expected so much more from that moment. Wait, what the-?_

Tasha blinked when her 'life' hit the King of Shadows in one glowing eye and the enormous body lurched backwards. An instant later a small, bristling grey figure planted itself firmly in front of her and snarled murderously.

Khelgar, given a moment more to his run, caught up to the shadowy figure swung his crackling hammer full-force into its side, howling furious dwarven battle cries. Tasha stared, uncomprehending, at the wolf in front of her, and tried to figure out what had happened.

_Was that...an arrow? But no one has a bow...except... _Her foggy mind cleared somewhat and the tiefling twisted her bruised, throbbing head to one side. _Bishop? Am I hallucinating? _

Bishop restrung his bow and took aim, slightly shocked that everyone, save the whining brat of a sorceress, appeared at least half-alive. And pissed, if Khelgar was any indication. The ranger let fly, wondered again just what the hell he was doing, and glanced at the tiefling. She was staring at him with vacant, glazed eyes and he could see, coming from the back of her head and sliding down her neck, a thick stream of blood. One of the woman's legs was bent at an unnatural angle, no doubt broken by the King's charge. Bishop sighed and, muttering every proffanity he could think of, stiffy reached into his pack for a potion.

Casavir finished getting the sizzling plate mail from his body, and an instant later Zhjaeve finished her healing spell. The paladin wiped sweat from his brow and rose, taking in the scene before him; Sand and Ammon were throwing everything they had, making explosions and wide arcs of blue-white lightening. Grobnar, scared but unhurt, was running towards the elf and yelling about something. Khelgar, driven on by a sudden rush of adrenaline and fresh rage, was swinging his hammer almost recklessly at the King, who seemed more preoccupied with Tasha than the dwarf.

Tasha... The paladin had seen, seemingly in slow motion, the woman violently knocked back into the stone walls. Casavir's eyes widened and slid to the cleric, who was half-sitting, half-lying, propped back against the wall. She seemed dazed, but not dead, and, Casavir's eyes now doubled in size and his mouth dropped slightly, Bishop was now uncorking a small vial of blue liquid.

What was going on? The paladin clenched his jaw and ran for the battle, already beginning a spell. It didn't matter now; now, they had to finish this.

"Drink it, idiot," Bishop snarled when the tiefling, still only half-conscious, barely reacted. The ranger swore again; furious at himself, for coming back, at Tasha, for being so damn_ nice,_ and at the dwarf, for not delaying the King long enough. Hells, if that thing came much closer... He grabbed the tiefling's chin and forced her head back, tipping the foul-smelling vial and allowing some liquid to flow out. Tasha gave a choked cough and, after a few gasps, managed to swallow.

Khelgar rolled past another hit, raised his hammer, and sent it smashing down. The monstrous creature shrieked, this time with real pain, not just rage, coherant in its cry. An ivory skeleton, at least seven feet tall, came from Ammon's direction and threw itself, with no fear of pain or death, onto the King's side. Casavir came from the dwarf's side, praying the last words of an incantation and dealing the monster a mighty blow.

Sand sent a volley of magically directed missiles at the battle, then turned to the frantically yelling Grobnar. "What _is_ it?! Spit it out, gnome!"

"Blast globes!" the gnome panted loudly, pointing at Sand's discarded pack. "He's too tall, so it wouldn't hurt-"

Sand's almond shaped eyes widened, stunned by both Grobnar's sanity and the idea. A globe, thrown high, at the thing's head... the elf flashed a large grin and snatched up his pack, digging through the various pockets- some normal, some extra-dimensional- until he found one; a fist-sized, fiery orange ball the gave off an acrid, smokey odor. He pulled it out, eyed it with a smirk, and sprinted closer to the King.

Karnwyr bolted for the shadowy form, his teeth finding ample purchase on its leg. The wolf bit down, razor sharp fangs ripping into and tearing away some of the monster's dark flesh.

Casavir ducked when Sand missiles, followed by a burst of light from Zhjaeve, rained down on the King. The paladin offered another prayer to Tyr, jumping away from another swipe and moving steadily closer to the now-rising tiefling.

Sand got close enough and chuckled, throwing the globe with all his strength. The King, caught off gaurd by an arrow that had just peirced its head, never saw the elf's missile coming. The globe hit it right in the face, exploding on impact and shrouding the monster in flame.

"The Sword!" Ammon screamed at Tasha, who was running in to join the fight. "Use it now!"

She complied, whipping the pulsating blade out and slashing at the huge form. The King, blinded by smoke and fire, slashed recklessly, crushing the skeleton in one blow. Tasha rolled behind him and struck again, diving between his legs after that hit.

Khelgar was pelted by embers, but the hardy dwarf managed to shrug them off. His hammer smashed down again, shattering a kneecap. Zhjaeve and Ammon threw more fire, holy and hellish, at the creature. Grobnar and Sand both sent more spells in, hitting the creature with stinging acid and magic. Bishop let fly another arrow, Casavir prayed once more, Karnwyr let out a bloodcurdling, triumphant howl, and, when the dwarf's mighty hit had sent the King to his knees, Tasha drove the glowing, throbbing Sword into his chest.

There was a sudden, quiet pause, as if time itself had stopped. Then, in the chaotic burst of an instant, the King of Shadows shrieked and lurched backwards. He clawed, still screaming at the deeply imbedded blade, and when Casavir desperately dived away from the falling creature he saw, with wide eyes, the very flesh around the Sword begin to sizzle and steam, as if acid had been thrown on it.

Ammon alone continued to attack; the others were either too busy getting out of the frantic creature's way or too shokced by the sight of the King of Shadows, screaming and clawing at his own chest, dissintigrating before their eyes.

And, in a storm of steaming acid and hellfire, all of it mixed with the billowing shadow, the weary group watched with disbelief as the King finally stopped moving and lay, collapsed, lifeless, on the cold stone floor.

Tasha, her mouth dry and her not completely healed leg aching, was the first to speak. "We...we _won_. "By Lathander, we-." The cleric's voice was cut off by a sudden, violent tremble that shook the very foundations of the ruin. Her leg crumpled and Casavir, managing to keep his own balance, pulled her back up.

"These ruins will not stand for much longer." Ammon's gravelly, emotionless voice pierced the rumble. "We must find..." his glowing yellow eyes slid to the portal which, every few seconds, would blink and waver, as if fading. "The portal! It may be our only escape from this place."

"There's a passage over-" Bishop was cut off by both the hateful, distrusting looks he received and a sudden crack. The ceiling, already unstable, was starting to fall. Small pebbles and clouds of dust scattered down and, with a heart-clenching roar, a good portion of the stone completely collapsed, blocking the passage the ranger had previously used. He cursed again, turning to glare at the porta, but stopped short when he saw the confused, hurt, and slightly hopeful look Tasha was giving him.

"Know that we must leave. _Now_." The Gith said, her vioce strained high.

Casavir abruptly ran at Neehska and, in one smoot movement, lifted the frozen tiefling into his arms.

Tasha nodded, pulling the Sword of Gith free. "You're right. It's our only chance."

Another block of ancient stone crashed down, nearly hitting Khelgar. The dwarf yelped and jumped aside, running for the portal. "What're we watin' for? C'mon!"

Ammon followed, Zhjaeve at his heels. Sand stepped a bit closer, brows furrowed into a frown. "Yes, let's jump into a portal to who knows where, most likely the Ninth Hell or some equally-"

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be _that_ bad," Grobnar said helpfully, coming to stand behind Tasha. He fearlessly reached out and touched the portal, poking at the shimmering surface.

Ammon grew tired of waiting and stepped closer. "To stay is to die," the warlock said bluntly, pausing. "This will no doubt send us to different locations in the planes. If that is the case, then," he hesitated briefly, dark voice tinged with some foreign emotion. "I wish you well in your travels. Farewell." And with that, the black-cloaked man disappeared into the wavering portal.

Sand sighed. "He...does have a point..." the moon elf turned and, after a few fumbled attempts to bid farewell, simply shrugged, smirked, and stepped through.

"Know that I leave you, Kalach-cha," Zhjaeve said softly, perhaps smiling behind her veil. The Gith clasped Tasha's hand briefly and turned, also falling into the white portal.

Grobnar sniffled, hardly noticing the falling stones. "Oh, and this was succ fun, too!" He turned his little head up to smile at the tiefling. "I think I'll write some songs about all this, if you wouldn't mind it..."

"Of course not, Grobnar," Tasha said with a faint smile, flinching at another crashing rock. "Now go, hurry."

The gnome complied, and now only four were left. Tasha bit her bottom lip and watched Casavir, gently cradling Neeshka, and tried to ignore the look Bishop was giving her. "Well..."

The paladin gave Bishop a long, judging look and, apparently somewhat satisfied, looked down at her. "We have done well, my lady. You have saved countless lives from a horrible fate." He lowered his head a bit, an affectionate smile crossing his grave face. "You are truly a hero."

"Heh..." she blushed, akwardly patting his shoulder. "Couldn't of done it without you..."

Casavir nodded and, shifting the fallen thief, walked through.

Karnwyr whimpered and drew closer to Bishop's legs. The ranger was prepared to step through when Tasha's voice stopped him.

"You came back."

He glanced back, suddenly uncomfortably. "...Yeah."

"Why?" the cleric asked quietly, edging closer to the portal. He didn't answer for a moment, and she offered a faint grin. Maybe her prayers, murmured every night, had not been in vain. "You...really do care."

Bishop blinked, not sure how to reply. After a long minute he glanced around and swallowed, searching deep for some sarcastic comment. "What, you really thought I'd side with that undead freak? He was-"

She cut him off, expecting the evasive reply. "Well, I'm glad you came back." The cleric half-smiled, meeting Bishop's glittering amber eyes. "Whatever your reasons."

The ranger gulped, slowly meeting her eyes, and took a deep breath. "I..." Another stone, this one only a few feet away, smashed heavily to the ground. "Look, we gotta go."

Tasha nodded and smiled to herself, oddly touched by his actions. "Right. Come on." He grinned weakly and watched her step through, surrounding by blinding light for a mere instant. Karnwyr dived through and Bishop, after drawing a deep breath and smiling ever so slightly, vanished into the shimmering door.

_Hm...maybe a slightly corny ending, but...not _too_ bad, right? Oh, you may see this updated in the upcoming weeks, but all I'm doing is editing chapters and fixing some stuff. So...well, I hope ya'll liked it!_


End file.
